The Interview
by Speary
Summary: It begins at an award show. Dean Winchester, a well-known actor, stands before a crowd with Charlie at his side. The world looks at him and sees someone that has everything, the fame, the fortune, the life. They don't see the loss or what he refuses to tell. Then Charlie, his manager, sets up an interview with a journalist that seems to know how to get the truth. Destiel Denny AU.
1. Chapter 1

He seemed to have stopped the shaking in his hands. He clutched at the notecards that he held there. He would not need them. He could just read from the teleprompter. He worried that he would fumble or, worse yet, become emotional. He glanced at the woman at his side. A celebrity in her own way. Her hair was cut into a bouncy bob. The red tresses fluttered about as she turned to him. She reached up to his cheek. "You ready, Dean?"

He looked out at the crowd that was just colors and blinding light and said, "No, but I guess that hardly matters." The music stirred up and they strode out to the front of the stage arm in arm. He focused his thoughts on unimportant things, the sound of her grey dress rustling with each step, the sound of clicking cameras, the slowly diminishing volume of the orchestra. When they had asked him to present, he had agreed without much thought. He hadn't asked what they wanted him to present. He hadn't cared. It would just be part of the job. It would be him promoting the latest film. Later they dropped him from presenting the best actress category and added him to this. He could have said no. He could have said that something came up and skipped the whole thing, but it felt wrong somehow. So here he was.

They stopped at the podium. It was clear glass, so no hiding would be accomplished here. The lights kept everything in abstract. He knew that the usual suspects were seated below. He had heard the requisite jokes about all of them. It was 1986 and the jokes felt like they could have been tossed out at the crowd a decade ago to the same effect. He shuffled his cards, then realized that he needed to shuffle them back into the right order. The orchestra became quiet. Charlie reached over and took his hand in hers. He looked at her then out to the crowd that was just colors and silence. He swallowed back the first word that the teleprompter told him to say. It slowed in its upward crawl of letters. Someone must have realized that he needed a moment. Then Charlie spoke instead.

She repurposed the opener to his speech to fit her, and he stood there at her side just listening to it. They were his words, words he had practiced over and over until he could do it without incident. It was easy enough when he was at home, but apparently he lost some of his skill now in front of the crowd. He felt her coming to the end of the introduction then. He felt her hand squeeze his. The lights dropped them all into darkness. She leaned into him and whispered in his ear. "Will you be able to do the second half?"

He squeezed her hand back and gave her a nod. He tuned it all out, the noise of the video, the music that accompanied it. He did not look back at it as he had been instructed to do during rehearsals. He knew even then that it would not happen that way. Time passed and also seemed to linger. He pushed his nerves into a tight box in his stomach. He let himself glance out over the crowd, not at their faces, but instead just over their heads. He did not want to see who was there, who was not. Their anonymity allowed him to have an imagination. Imagination allowed him an escape. He needed that more than anything now.

When the lights came up, he spoke. He delivered the speech of his lifetime. It was as he had planned it, minus the introduction. The silence that fell at the end was heavy. He let his eyes focus on the crowd a little. They stood and clapped. It was loud and long. He felt Charlie release his hand to run her arm around his waist in a sideways hug. They would be in the papers tomorrow. Hollywood's power couple. He could picture this moment covering the newsstands of every grocery store. He would have to avoid them. He wouldn't be able to handle it. They left the stage like this, her arm around him, his arm draped over her shoulder. The orchestra kicked up to play them off.

* * *

The night had been long and filled with parties. They went. They were obligated to do so. Actually, he was obligated, and Charlie was just kind. There were the questions at every stop, _what are you wearing, when will we have a wedding, how do you feel about losing the best actor win?_ He never expected a win, so that question was not as harsh as it had sounded to Charlie. The other questions had canned answers, easily delivered. Charlie answered the what are you wearing question for them both with the word _clothes._ This always garnered a laugh. The wedding question was also played off with humor, each one taking turns with the canned jokes that they had developed for these occasions.

She was his publicist and his manager. He had known her since nearly the beginning. She had become more than that though. She was family. Their relationship was one of the few stable, constant, things in his life. He cherished her. She seemed to feel the same. They lived in the same house. Frequented the various shindigs that celebrities fell into. Most articles referred to her as his partner. Most articles referred to her, at the very least, as a romantic interest. She seemed to enjoy their attentions and played them up whenever she got the chance. Dean enjoyed her antics. He enjoyed them so much that he often went along with them. Tonight the antics were a distraction. They were a comfort and he would need them.

The first party had plenty of alcohol. He consumed much of it. She helped him navigate the seas of people and press. "Don't drink anymore. I won't be able to get you to the car. Plus, you gotta pace yourself. We have three more of these."

"I got this. I can hold way more." He smiled down at her.

"No, you can't. Now ease up." She gave him the sad puppy eyes that he couldn't refuse. "Please, for me."

"Okay." He plopped a quick kiss down on her forehead and noticed that a journalist had snapped a shot of it. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Always for the cameras, huh?"

"Don't you know it." She smiled back at him as he said it. They made the rounds and left for the next party.

By the third stop, Dean was barely keeping himself upright. He leaned against the bar and gave the bartender a wave. "What can I get you?"

"Water." The bartender scooped some ice into a tumbler and splashed some water into it. "Thanks." Dean chugged down the liquid, hoping for a little sobriety or at least less of a hangover tomorrow. A man in a suit sat at the bar near him. He had a camera and a cup of coffee. "Long night." Dean decided to engage him in conversation. Charlie had gone off to God knows where. _Might as well be sociable._

"You don't say." His voice was a New Orlean's drawl. He had a day's growth of stubble framing his angular cheekbones. His eyes were blue. There was too much familiarity in that color. Dean looked away and took a sip of his water. "Hitting the hard stuff, huh?"

Dean looked back at the man. "Yeah, I need to wash away the drinks from earlier." He reached over to the man. "I'm Dean."

He took Dean's hand, "I'm Benny." Dean shook his hand then sat down.

"What brings you to this party? You a producer?" He did not recognize Benny from any films, so he had to assume.

"Nah, I'm a journalist. I came looking for a story. Took some videos and photos. Got some pithy quotes. Been a good night."

"Ah." Dean started to stand up. _A journalist. That's the last thing that I need._

Benny reached out and stopped his progress. "Sorry, I put you off by being a journalist, huh?"

"I just don't want to be quoted tomorrow. I am pretty much done for the night." Dean gave Benny's hand on his arm a pointed look.

"Look, I'm off the clock now. You enjoy your hardcore drink there and I promise not to quote you on anything." Dean felt his legs wobble a bit. He had consumed too much to be walking around. He sat again.

"Fine."

If he had known how things were going to go, he would have braved the walking anyway. Since he didn't, he stayed at that bar for over an hour. The next morning, he couldn't remember a thing that he had shared with Benny.

* * *

He lived in the desert, kind of. It was Riverside County, which hardly had a name that said cacti and sand, but it was a desert region none the less. He didn't want to live in L.A. He didn't want to live in the Hollywood Hills. So, when he chose his home, he picked one that was just a little removed from the hustle and bustle of his working life. Something about the arid landscapes appealed to him. The way that it never got too cold, the way that it was quiet, the way that it was unappealing to certain people, made this the ideal place for him.

He rarely had to entertain this far from L.A. which was a bonus. He rarely had someone just drop in unexpectedly. He could hold a certain level of expectations out here with just Charlie for companionship now. It was easy, somewhat. Dean rolled out of bed and stumbled over to his chair with the grey robe draped over the back. He had tossed it there the night before. He felt the pressure in the back of his head, a headache was building.

He made his way downstairs to the breakfast that he was sure, was already there. They would eat in the sun room. They always ate in the sunroom. Charlie was seated at the little round table, back to the window. _They should rename the sunroom in the winter. They should call it the grey room or something._ He thought this as he stepped over to the window and peered down at the wet desert landscape. The sky was solid grey drowning out what sunlight it could. It had rained the night before as they were driven home. He remembered that. He remembered Charlie worrying that the driveway would be washed out and that they might not be able to pass.

"How is the driveway this morning?"

"Still there, for now." She smiled at him. "How's your head?"

Dean took a seat across from her. "Could be worse." He looked at her newspaper, spread open in front of her. "We make the papers?"

"Yep. They liked my dress. They also liked your speech, a lot." She set the paper aside and looked at Dean.

"Hmm." He scooped up some eggs from the central serving dish on the table. Charlie picked up a wedge of toast and began spreading jam on it. They went through the motions. "They say anything about the next film?" He wanted to avoid talking about the speech. He was more than ready to pretend that it had never happened.

"Some speculation. There seems to be some theory out there that you are going to make a sequel. I'll try to squash that one."

"No more action. No more sequels. I'm too old for that shit, Charlie."

"I know." She got up then and came over to him. She pressed a chaste little kiss on his forehead. "You did great last night. I'm proud of you, Dean." She ran her hand up his arm and ended with a little squeeze of affection.

"Thanks, Charlie. I couldn't have done it without you." He hoped that she saw his sincerity behind the look. "Do we have anything on the agenda today?"

"Not sure yet. I got a call from a reporter that wants to do an interview. He sounded intriguing, but I will need to do a little research first. I don't know his work all that well compared to the usual suspects."

"What made him stand out?"

"He wants to do a life story kind of deal. He isn't interested in just the gossip column dribble. He seemed to want a more compelling story." Charlie took a bite of her toast and washed it down with some coffee.

"I don't know if I can do a whole life story interview. I'd have to make up too much stuff." Dean gulped down some coffee too and considered all of the tall tales that had become part of the Dean Winchester canon. The backstory, the melancholy childhood, the losses, all of it carefully crafted from tiny truths into something just intriguing enough to keep the public's interest.

"Maybe you don't. Maybe this time, you tell the truth." She folded her hands in front of her and watched for his reaction.

"You know that I won't be doing that."

"I know. This is why I haven't scheduled anything with him yet." She walked over to the buffet table that stood along the far wall. It held the coffee and juices. She refilled her mug and Dean's then returned to the table. "I don't know why, but I think that he would do a good interview. The brief chat that I had with him seemed…" She paused, searching for words. "warm, inviting. I liked him."

"Hmm." Dean sipped at the coffee. "I trust you. Set it up if you think that it will help. I'm all for diving back into something. I need a project, a distraction. The sooner you get me set, the better."

"You sure that you don't need a little down time? I mean, it might help." She looked at him with concern.

"I've had enough down time. I've had a year of down time. I need to be doing something with myself. I'm ready for something." He was frustrated just thinking about all of the nothing that he was doing.

"Then I think that I will set it up. Maybe we can do this later in the week. Think about how you want to frame yourself. If it is going to just be more of the tall tale stuff, you might want to review the notes. You don't want to have to do damage control like we did after the Denver interview."

"I hear ya." He scooped up the last bite of eggs and stood from the table. "I think that I'll get on that now. Lord knows that thing is like a novel now." The notes that they had constructed over the years contained a detailed life story of Dean Winchester. It was almost entirely fabricated. He went to school in Kansas, true, but he didn't go to the prom with a girl named Rhoda Hurley. In fact Rhoda didn't exist. So many searches had been done on her that she should have existed. Some of his classmates, attention seekers, even claimed that they knew her. She was a transfer student that didn't make it into the yearbook. He even had a whole _too bad she transferred again_ schpeel that made him look like a jilted lover. Everyone swooned and felt for him when he told that part of the tale.

He had other tales too. His mother was a saint that died when he was a child. His father was a saint that died when he was an adult. He hardly remembered his mom, so sainthood did not seem unfair for her. He did know his father though, and he hardly qualified as a saint. _But he's dead now, so who cares._ He did have a brother that could dispute everything if he so chose. Sam never piped up though. He let Dean spin his yarns. He laughed about some of them when they were alone, but mostly he just ignored them. That was just how Sam was. It was his way of being supportive.

Dean made his way up to his room and pulled out the notes. They were weighty and not his favorite reading materials. He carried them over to the window seat and began reading. It wasn't long though, before his thoughts drifted away from the notes and onto the past. He stared out into the grey world beyond his window. He caught hints of desert mountains in the distance. The rain was coming down harder now. The driveway would be a mess. He would likely not do the interview until the storm let up. Out here they did not last long. There were torrential rains, then the sun would break through and bake away the evidence. He could wait until then. Maybe then he would want to tell a better tale. A true tale. He looked down at the notes curled up in his hand and felt like that, for the first time, might be preferable.

* * *

The week passed and each day there was still rain. He thought that it would pass quickly. It was doing nothing for his mood. He had considered flying off somewhere, _Mazatlan maybe_. _Nah, too many memories there_. Dean and Charlie went through the usual motions. Meals were eaten together. Then there were errands into town. He was handed scripts. He read them and tossed them. He hadn't found the one that spoke to him yet. He reread his notes and prepared for his interview. No confirmation had been made until quite late in the week. Charlie told him via a note left at the breakfast table that she had headed out of the country for a few weeks. It would be quiet in the house without her. It was quiet with her, but that hardly was the same.

He got dressed and went through the motions of being alone. He felt it pressing on him from the walls decorated in paintings by artists that he didn't even know. He felt it pressing on him from the magazines on the table staring at him with his eyes. He felt it most especially when he laid down at night in the dark and had started leaving a light on just to drive away the demons. He took to drinking too, just at night. It wasn't much, but it was enough to numb him.

He dressed and made his way down to the breakfast that was likely waiting for him. His personal chef was neither seen nor heard, but boy did he cook. He had a housekeeper too that would take care of the other necessities. She took most of her direction from Charlie. They were both discreet and loyal to a fault. This was why he was surprised to find the sunroom occupied when he entered it.

"Excuse me. Who are you? Who let you in?" He stalked over to the table, a thin worry filled him as he made his way over. The face was familiar though.

The man stood from the table, where he had been helping himself to half of Dean's breakfast. "Sorry, I was told to make myself at home. They said that you would come down when you were ready, and that I shouldn't be concerned about how long it took." He made his way around the table to Dean and held out his hand to shake. "We met before. I'm Benny Lafitte."

Dean remembered him now from the last party. He didn't remember much else. _Why is he here?_ "Nice seeing you again. Who let you in?"

"Oh, your housekeeper." He stepped back from Dean then and glanced over at the table. Dean motioned for the seat and the two of them sat across from each other.

"Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you here?" Dean started scooping up food for his plate.

"Charlie didn't tell you that I would be here?" Benny looked concerned.

"Uh, no."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I totally thought that this was all a go. I think that maybe I should just come back another day, when you are ready. I'm really sorry." Benny got up then.

Dean caught his arm and nodded back at the seat. "You might as well finish breakfast and tell me what this is about." Benny sat back down.

"I'm supposed to interview you." Dean rolled up his eyebrow and then got up to retrieve some coffee.

"Charlie may have mentioned the interview." He huffed out a sigh as he poured the coffee. "She didn't mention you by name though. I'm sorry about the confusion."

Benny let out a sigh then too. "God, I feel a little better then. I thought, great I just completely misunderstood the whole arrangement." Benny had a comfortable tone. It was warm and Dean felt drawn in by it. _Maybe everyone from New Orleans had that effect._"So, do you think that you'll want to do the interview today? I was thinking that we could do some preliminary stuff today and maybe the rest could happen later. Of course, I'm fine with whatever you want."

Dean took his coffee over to the window and looked down at the canyon below. There was small river forming in the crevice. It was flowing rapidly past his line of sight. Normally, it was dry there, cracked and empty. The rain, though, had changed that. The driveway would likely wash out today. He would need to be mindful of it so that Benny would not get trapped here. He returned to the table. Benny sat quietly waiting for Dean's response. Dean sat down again and looked at him. He saw something in him that seemed sincere. "Today works for me." The commitment was made. There was no backing out now.

* * *

Dean let Benny set up his cameras in the library. There was a well-lit corner that seemed like it would be good for the interview. There was a pair of chairs separated by a coffee table. Just beyond the chairs was a tall, floor-to-ceiling window. There were golden curtains framing it with green tie-backs. They gave the room and old world feel as if they had been dropped into a Renaissance palace. Dean shifted about in the seat as Benny adjusted the cameras. He planned to film continuously from multiple cameras, and then he would edit the footage together at the end. Dean didn't question it; he just accepted it.

He walked over to the window and looked down at the driveway. It was holding on against the rain. "We need to make sure to check on the driveway every now and then. I don't want you to get stuck here."

"I'm not too worried." Benny was fiddling with the last camera. "I've started filming now. Just so you know."

_Great, now with the predictable questions: When are you and Charlie getting married? When are you making the sequel to the Righteous Man? _He could almost do the interview himself. He waited for the inevitable, but was surprised by the question that came first. Benny didn't wait for him to sit down, and he didn't wait to finish with the camera that he was working on. He just threw out a question.

"So, how did you meet Cas Novak?"

Dean reached up and gripped the side of the window frame. It was stable. It would keep him from sinking. _Why would he start with that question? Nobody started like this._ Instead of answering, he responded, "That's a funny way to start. Did Charlie put you up to that?"

Benny looked up then with a raised brow. "No, I just...It felt like a place to begin. Your speech was moving. I think that people would want to know more." Once again, Dean thought that Benny looked sincere, so he accepted his words at face value.

"Sorry, it was just unexpected. I tend to get the same types of questions at each of these little interviews."

"I can imagine. If it helps, I could ask you the usual questions first to put you at ease." Benny smiled over at him. Dean walked over to the seat and considered his options.

"I would rather not, if that is okay with you." He smiled back, and like that some of his barriers fell away.

"So, then would it be okay if I asked you to tell me about how you first met Cas Novak?"

"That seems reasonable." Dean wiped his hands on his jeans and calmed his breathing. He had to decide pretty quickly which narrative path he was going to take.

"So, most stories that I have heard, said that you two first met on the set of _Righteous Man_. Is that right, and what was that like?"

Dean smiled as he began his answer. It was a wry smile that seemed a little insincere. He looked out past Benny to the window. The rain was picking up. He could feel his heartbeat drumming hard in his chest. He wondered if the mic would pick up the noise of it. He returned his gaze to Benny and laughed a small laugh. "Now that is a funny story."

* * *

The set of the film _Righteous Man_ was humid to say the least. They were knee deep in sludge that the crew had made that morning for a fight sequence. Mazatlan was going to be hot today. It was already hot. Dean gripped the railing of the riser that lined the sludge. It had a platform attached to it that the cameraman would utilize during filming. They were waiting on Dean's co-star, Cole Trenton. He was a too full of himself dick, Dean thought. He could put up with him though. He had put up with worse. He was starting to get irritated though. The longer they had to wait for Cole, the longer Dean had to spend in the sludge. It was not pleasant.

This was going to be their first scene together, and if this was how it would all begin, he was not looking forward to the next four months together. He heard the shouting first. "You fucking ass. You think that this is cheap, flying your ass out here? You think you can just dictate whatever the hell you want?" Zachariah was storming after Cole. Cole seemed like he was not concerned. He just kept walking. Zachariah was supposed to be directing the scene. He normally had a calmness that bordered on being a little creepy. Now he just looked unhinged. "You think that you'll do this, and there will be no consequences don't you? Well, screw you, Cole. I will see to it that you never get a gig again." He was shouting at him. Cole finally turned around.

"Do what you want. I never wanted to be here anyway. My agent made it happen, and frankly I'm done. You go find someone else to take the part. The movie is shit anyway. I quit." Cole was calm. His words though, set Zachariah off again.

Dean turned to the stunt man that was waiting near the edge of the sludge, and reached out a hand. "Might as well pull me out. Looks like we won't be filming this scene today." The man was going to cover the stunts for Cole. He didn't quite look like Cole though. He had longer hair that was a little wild, a deep brown. He had a similar build though, muscular arms and a six foot tall body. His face was angular and stubbled. He had deep blue eyes that caught the light in an amiable way. He reached down to Dean and gripped his arm with one hand and his opposite hand with the other. "God, this stuff reeks like hell. Thanks man."

"No problem." But before the man had fully pulled Dean out, he lost his footing and they both fell back into the mess.

"Damn it. God. Sorry, man. Shit." Dean was apologizing through a mouthful of the gunk that splashed up into his face. The guy that was rather neat and tidy before was more of a mess now than Dean had been. His hair was plastered back with mud and his face was a splattered canvas of browns. The guy tried to trudge to the edge to pull himself out. It was slow going and awkward. Dean started laughing.

"You sound sorry."

"I am. It's just…" He laughed again and tried to stifle it. The man was holding his arms up out of the muck in a slight chicken posture. "Well, you kind of look ridiculous. Sorry."

"Your sincerity is astounding." He scrambled up out of the muck and turned back to Dean. He huffed out a sigh and reached back down to him.

"Seriously, you are helping me again? This can't end well." Dean smirked and the mud on his face crumbled off a little.

"Well, I can't get any messier. Come on." Dean grabbed his hand and the man reached down with his other hand and pulled him up more successfully this time. They didn't know that they had an audience. Zachariah was watching them. He stomped over.

"Why are you getting out of the sludge?"

Dean was confused. He glanced past Zachariah to the guy that had just helped him out then back. "Seemed like we wouldn't be filming today. Looked like you had lost one of your principles."

"I always have a back-up plan. Next time wait until I give you the all clear." He stormed off then and called back, "My set, my rules. Play your part."

Dean shrugged then and turned to the man that had helped him out, "My name's Dean by the way." He held out a hand to shake; it was covered in mud.

"Cas, Cas Novak." He took Dean's hand in his and the mud squished between their fingers. That was how they met. That was how it began.

* * *

Benny was smiling at the story. Dean spun a good tale. He had not told this story before. No one ever really asked. No one was ever really concerned with how he had met Cas. They had been in a few films together, and most just accepted that they met on that first film set without caring about the details. Benny picked up a glass of water from off of the table and took a sip.

"So, you were friends from the start?" Benny set the glass back down and watched Dean's reaction.

"I don't know if I would say that. I think that he tolerated me. I may have been a little annoying. Frankly, I was completely annoying. I don't know why he put up with me." Dean smiled again with the memory. "It was lucky that I met him then. He got me through some tough times."

"What do you mean?" Benny's question was quiet, inviting confidence.

Dean looked at him for a moment, gauging him. His response sounded calculated. "Everyone needs a friend when life turns dark. Cas was that for me. I haven't always been the happy guy that you see here today. Just ask Charlie." He smiled. He felt himself dropping into the canned lines. The notes that he had read the night before shuffled up to the forefront of his mind.

Benny shifted in his seat. He seemed to grow uneasy. "If you need a break for a bit, I can shut off the cameras."

Dean cocked his head to the side. "Why do you think that I need a break?"

"I've got a pretty good sense of you Dean. I've watched your interviews, the ones for the rags and the fluff pieces. I'm not sure what I did to push you into that space, but you certainly went there. The story you told before, was not like that." He waited. Dean didn't respond. The cameras still rolled. "So, like I said, I can shut them off if you need to take a break."

"Maybe for just a bit." Dean got up and stalked out of the room. He heard Benny getting up to shut off the cameras as he slipped out the door into the hall.

He walked to the kitchen and asked the chef for a snack. A little tray of sandwiches materialized moments later. He helped himself to the beers in the fridge, hoping that he wasn't being rude by stretching out his time away from the interview. He didn't want to go back yet. He was actually thinking of calling it done when he heard a noise behind him. Benny had walked into the kitchen. "You hungry?" Dean asked.

"Not terribly, but if you are, I can join you." They took the tray of sandwiches and the beers to the dining room and sat down to eat.

"Sorry about before." Dean tipped back the beer and then casually set it back on the table.

"You didn't do anything. I just don't think that you realized that I am not like the other people that have interviewed you. I wanted to set the record straight, so to speak." Benny picked up his beer and took a short pull from the bottle before setting it back down.

"I don't know much about you. What makes you so different?" Dean asked the question with genuine curiosity and that tone made the question acceptable.

"Well, I use to work for the _New York Times_, but things happened and that came to an end. When I got the gig at _Rolling Stone_, I'm afraid that I didn't lose my journalistic integrity. Only now, I have to apply my skills to music and movie stars. I get to have a little freedom in all of this too. I produce a written article for them and the video piece, I get to market elsewhere. I've had a decent number of pieces run on MTV. I've been lucky. Occasionally, I get to focus on something compelling, a real human interest piece." He looked steadily at Dean, and Dean could feel the gaze dipping into him a little. "When that happens, I feel like I have found my little slice of heaven."

"So, this here is you slumming it a little? Doing your time on the fluff interview until you can take on something more compelling?" Dean began munching on one of the sandwich wedges. Benny picked at the edge of another.

Benny popped a piece of bacon from one of the B.L.T.s into his mouth before answering. "I don't think that this interview will be a fluff piece unless you make it one. I hope that you won't. We've already heard you answer all of the usual questions about your relationship with Charlie, the films that shaped you, and the loss of your parents. I think that I want to give the audience something a bit more real."

"Are you saying that those stories weren't real?" Dean felt irritation rising into his throat. Although he knew that Benny was right, a lot was fabricated, Benny didn't have anyway of knowing it. Thus Dean was angry.

"You don't need to be upset. I'm just saying that I'm not here for a fluff piece. I'd like to see another side of you. Charlie said that you want to get away from the action films. She said that you were hoping for a solid dramatic role. You even said so much at the party the other night. This interview could help you gain the kind of notice that leads to those roles." Benny stopped then and seemed to assess the effect of his words on Dean.

"I don't like being called a liar." Dean graveled out.

"I don't think that I ever did that." Benny replied, quiet and soothing.

"Hmm. Sure sounded like it."

"I said that I wanted to hear something more real. There's a difference."

"I don't see how."

"Well, even a true story, once it has been told too many times, tends to become something strange, something more like a caricature of its original self. In the many celebrity interviews that I have done, I have noticed that the common tales that they tell, feel false. They aren't lies or anything like that, but they feel like it. The best stories, the ones people really want to hear, are the fresh stories. The ones that haven't been shined up with spit and polish to create an image. The real stories that come from the heart, or the gut, depending on where you store your soul." Benny smiled a little wry grin across the table.

Dean leaned back in the seat. "I don't know if I have many of those kinds of stories."

"I think that you do, but that no one has bothered to ask you for them in some time." Benny leaned in and rested his arms on the table. "Mind if I ask you about Zachariah?"

"That ass? Ask away." Dean huffed out a near snort and looked off at the far wall behind Benny. There was a large mirror there with a gilt frame. It was gaudy. Charlie had convinced Dean that it would be a good purchase for the dining room. _It would capture the lights nicely._ She had said. It did, but he still didn't like it. He wasn't much of a fan of mirrors. He didn't like seeing himself. His reflection stared back at him. He was carefully put together today. His hair neatly arranged into the slightly slicked back golden brown spikes. The grey that had just started showing up a couple of years ago, was colored out. He could see the lines forming at his eyes even at this distance. All the age, on display. His facial hair seemed intent on growing rapidly today. He had shaved in the morning, but he could already see the shadow of it gracing the plains of his jawline.

"So, Zachariah was a tough director to work for, if the rumors are true."

"That's an understatement." Dean returned the gaze.

"You worked on a couple of other films before working with him." It was a statement; everyone knew Dean's film history.

He responded anyway. "Yeah, I had a soap opera that I was on before. That was during my adorable teenager phase. I did some modeling. You know. My first manager did alright by me. He got me a part in this indie film. It was called _The Hunter_. It did well overseas. I remember doing a press junket over in Japan, and whoa that, now that was wholly unexpected. I mean, I couldn't even leave my room without a body guard. Back home, I was like practically a nobody. Over there, though, I was all kinds of famous, like overnight."

"So, what made you leave your original manager?"

"Oh, he didn't really know what to do with me. We just got lucky landing _The Hunter._ He was kind of looking to get out of the whole thing. He retired after I left. Luckily, I met Charlie, and she changed the course of my life." Dean sounded wistful.

Benny didn't follow that path though. "So, this all took you down a path that landed you on the _Righteous Man _set?" Dean nodded and Benny continued. "What's always gotten me was, given Zachariah's reputation, why did he decide to pull in an unknown commodity for a starring role? I mean, he already took a calculated risk when he put you in the role opposite Cole Trenton, but to replace Cole with Cas, seemed like it should have been suicide."

"It should have been, and he'll take all the credit for making Cas into a star. He had nothing to do with it though. Cas did that himself." Dean shifted about in the seat and added, "You see Zachariah was in a bit of a bind after Cole walked off the set. I mean, one day he was full on invested in this thing, the next minute, he is hating the whole industry. Never did find out what happened with him. You know, like, why the sudden shift. Regardless, though, he left so late in the game that Zachariah was going to have to fly home for a new round of auditions or he was going to have to resort to more desperate measures. As it stood, he chose to give himself a couple of days to figure it out. Turned out that that was all the time that was needed for me to see potential in Cas Novak." Dean noticed that Benny had pulled out his notepad and jotted down a few things.

"Sorry, it's just that I want to remember the stories that you tell. A few notes will remind me of the details later."

"Would it help if we went back to the library before I launch into another story?"

"It would. If you don't mind. If you are more comfortable here though, I can take notes just as effectively." Benny's lip curled up a little into a slight grin and his pen stayed poised over the notepad.

Dean got up, snagging a last sandwich wedge to toss into his mouth. "No prob." He mumbled around the mouthful. Benny got up and followed him out and back to the library.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: So I got a little plot bunny stuck in my head. Here is the first part of it. I know exactly where it is going. I just need to type up the rest of it. Hope you all like it. I posted some of it on Tumblr, and I have to admit that I didn't really go back over this for editing purposes. Hopefully, there is nothing too grave here. I just needed to put it out there.**


	2. Chapter 2

The week in Mazatlan became more and more humid. The waiting was a pain. Zachariah was becoming more and more temperamental. The phone calls back to the states were often so loud that they could be heard even outside of the motel. Dean lounged out by the pool, a Corona parked on the little metal table by his side. He was making a conscious effort to not get too dark. He wasn't sure how that would work with Zachariah's plans. He rolled over onto his back and reached over for his beer. He took a long pull on the bottle and lazily set it back when he was done. The sun on the water was blindingly bright. The day was going to drag out long and languid in front of him. He had been alone by the pool for the better part of the morning. As the heat rose though, others managed to drag themselves out to the poolside.

He had been zoning out when he heard the sharp scrape of a lounger being drug over to his side. "Hey, Cas." Dean tipped a nod his way.

"Hey, Dean." Cas spread a long white towel over the lounger and then plopped himself down on top of it. He wore a set of swim trunks, red like a fire engine. He had some wayfarers planted on his face. They were so dark that his eyes were completely obscured. He smiled though, and even without the eyes being visible, he looked quite pleased with the day.

"How's your day going?"

"Can't complain. I might get fired when they hire a new lead, seeing as I won't likely match the build and look. I can't complain though. I got a free vacation out of the deal." A waitress sauntered by and Cas gave her a wave. "Could I trouble you for a beer?"

"Of course." She jotted down the order on a little slip of paper sitting on her tray. "You want to charge it to your room?"

"Yeah, Room 452." He threw her a full smile and she left a little lighter than she had arrived.

"It's too bad about you maybe getting fired." Dean said as he watched the scene in front of him. He was already trying to think of a solution. He didn't like seeing anyone get shafted. "Maybe you should try out for the part." It was a dumb suggestion. Zachariah wasn't going to hire a green actor for a major role.

"I don't think that is an option." He turned to Dean a little more though. "I appreciate the vote of confidence though. I can't imagine that it is reasonable to assume that I would be what Zachariah is looking for."

"It's possible that he is just looking for a warm body right now. I heard that he is losing $10,000 a day just sitting here. That's going to kill this project in less than a month if he doesn't come up with a fast solution." Dean let the idea kick around a bit in his head. _Maybe it wasn't so far fetched to assume that Cas could do this._ "You have any experience beyond stunt work?"

"Only some minor stuff. I was on a soap opera once."

"Oh, really? Which one?"

"Angeles de la Noche." The waitress returned with his beer and set it on the metal table next to Dean's drink. Cas signed off on the tab that she laid out for him.

"So, not an English language program then?"

"Nope, what gave it away." They both chuckled a little. "I may be a little popular around here. They killed my character off some time last year, but I've had a few people recognize me. A couple of people asked to take a picture with me. I actually felt like kind of a celebrity." Cas took a pull off of the bottle of beer and then cradled it on his thigh. "I never really found another role like it after. So, I do the stunt man thing. It pays the bills."

"I think that maybe we should ask Zachariah to consider this. I think that maybe he might actually go for it. Word has it that the execs back home might actually blame him for pissing off Cole. They might take him off of the whole project if he doesn't get to filming this thing."

Cas cocked his head to the side and looked at him. The moment stretched out into what should have been awkward, but kind of wasn't. "Hmm. Why are you pushing for this?" Cas didn't break the gaze as he asked.

Dean did though. He sat up a little more and adjusted the back of the lounger. He picked up the beer to have something to do with his hands. He considered his answer. _Why was he pushing? Why did it matter at all? Not like he even really knew Cas. _ "I actually don't know. I guess that you seem kind of nice. Cole was an ass. I think that it would be nice to work with someone that is at least a little tolerable."

"So, I am a little tolerable then?" Cas let out a little chuckle.

"Well, you did try to get me out of the sludge while everyone else was content to just go about their business. I figure I owe you one." Dean took another gulp of the beer and swung his legs out to the side of the lounger to face Cas. He rested his arms on his legs and cupped the bottle with both hands in front of him.

"Hmm. I guess that it couldn't hurt to approach him. Do you have any pointers?" Cas swung his legs out to the side as well and fully faced Dean.

"Well, it probably wouldn't hurt to memorize the lines. He could see if you have talent. We could also run through a few scenes together and see if we mesh. I think that he is going to want to see how we play off of each other. Michael is supposed to hate Luc, and at the same time they have to seem like they have a bond too. You'll want to play Luc like he's evil and at the same time sympathetic. I think that I will have a much harder time playing Michael. He is supposed to be sympathetic, but he really just seems like kind of a dick." Dean was mapping it all out and finding it to be a tad cumbersome. It would take a bit of work to get Cas ready. _What am I getting myself into?_

Cas got up then. "I'm going to take a quick swim then. I have a feeling that we will need to get started on this right away if there is even a chance of convincing him." He took two short strides over to the pool and dove in. Dean watched his fluid movements beneath the water. He moved along the bottom of the pool in a straight line all the way to the midway point before he swooped up to the surface. His arms swept back to his sides as his face emerged from the water. He shook his head a little and began treading water for a moment. Then he stretched out and swam the rest of the pool's length on the surface. At the wall he dipped under and turned back to the start beneath the surface. He did not come back up until, once again, he was at the midpoint of the pool. Dean watched, mesmerized by the smoothness of his movements, the way that it all seemed choreographed.

He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. Cas reached the wall and hoisted himself up onto the edge. He walked back over to the lounger and picked up the towel. He quickly ruffled up his hair and face with it then proceeded to dry his torso and legs. Dean watched while trying hard not to look like he was watching. He decided that words would help. "So, you want to do a read-through now?"

"I thought that was the plan." He grinned a little at Dean, and Dean chugged the last of his beer.

"Just making sure. I have the script in my room. We should probably go there." He got up then and picked up his towel from the edge of the lounger. He hadn't taken a swim, so he just tossed it over his shoulder to carry it back. Cas stepped away from the lounger and Dean walked past him to lead the way. Cas fell into step behind him. Dean's room was not far from Zachariah's room. As they passed it, they could hear the angry tone of Zachariah's voice piercing past the door. It sounded like another phone call. Dean had heard a fair bit of them each time that he passed the room on the way to the lobby. It had only been two days, but he had thought that things would have calmed a bit by now. They reached his room and he opened the door with his key. "Here it is." They stepped in and Dean let the door close behind them.

* * *

Dean did not share all of the details with Benny. He did not tell him how watching Cas in the pool stirred something in him. He did not tell him how he felt captivated by him. He certainly did not share with him the fact that things had irrevocably shifted for him that day. His existence seemed to come into focus. He had floated about before that. He had done what needed doing each day. He was content for the most part. He did not have attachments and did not believe in them. He was happy enough to just marry himself to the work. The job was rather all consuming. Then there was Cas, and he had just wanted to help him. Well, that is what he had told himself, but he certainly didn't go into all of that with Benny.

"So, how did it go with Zachariah? I have already chosen to imagine him acting like an enraged bull." Benny laughed at his vision.

"Oh, man, was he ever mad. I think that he said something along the lines of 'how dare you even think that I would consider hiring a stuntman for this.'" Cas almost walked out the moment that Zachariah said it, but then I opened my big flapper, and said, "Unless you want to figure out how to replace two actors, you might want to take a couple of your precious moments and listen to this guy audition."

"You don't say. Sounds like you had a lot to do with his success."

"Oh, no. He would have done fine even without me. I just helped him get his foot in the door. It was really all him. He made Zachariah see it. The potential and such was pretty obvious."

Benny flipped through his notepad and seemed to scan for something. "He did say once in an interview with _Vanity Fair_ that if it weren't for you, that he would never have gone on in the acting field. He said that you were the entire reason for his success. And I quote, 'his role model,' end quote. How do you feel about that?" Benny flipped the notepad closed and slipped it back into his pocket.

Dean remembered when Cas had said it. It had been so long ago that he could almost rewrite the moment into something better, easier to swallow. As it was, it was not a pleasant memory. He thought about the words though and answered, "He always gave me too much credit. Cas was great, and it never seemed fair to me that he would take no credit for that. He always seemed to want the best for everyone around him. This meant that he would even throw all of his achievements at others as though they had been the ones to have earned them."

There was a low rumble of thunder that growled out around the house. He felt it shake the air around him. Dean got up and walked over to the window. The dark sky was cradling the world outside in an ominous embrace. Dean's eyes roamed over the driveway and he saw that the lower portion had washed away. Benny got up and joined him. "That doesn't look good."

"Nah, looks like you might be stuck here for a little longer than you anticipated." Benny just shrugged when Dean said that.

"I don't have anything better to do." Benny walked back over to the camera and switched it off. "Maybe we should take a little break for a spell. I think that I would like to talk some about how filming went and also about some of the later work that you did."

"Sounds fine by me. I would like to call Charlie and check up on her. A break would let me do that." He headed for the hall and turned at the door. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable." Benny fiddled around with the cameras and gave Dean a little nod that said _sure._

* * *

Dean found himself dragging by the early evening. Calling Charlie seemed like the best way to get his focus back. Once he got to his room he dragged the phone over to the table by the window. His room had been a safe haven for many years. Its walls were painted a neutral bedding and accents were a sky blue. His far wall was more window than wall. In the center were two wide glass-paned doors that opened onto a wide veranda. In good weather, he would sit out there for hours with a good book. Today though, it was a wet mess and nearly entirely unappealing.

He sat down and dialed the number that she left for her hotel. He did not think that he would reach her on the first try, but maybe he could leave her a message. Three rings in and she answered. "Yeah." The quick informal greeting that he was use to popped through time and space to his ear.

"Charlie. I miss you already."

"Oh, Dean, you'll turn my head."

"You made it there safely then, I guess." He felt a type of relief settle on him. He had grown a little tense in her absence.

"Of course. I should have called you. Sorry. I just assumed that you would be busy with the interview. So, how'd it go?"

"It's still going. The driveway got washed out, just so you know." He huffed out the last in exasperation. The driveway had been a bit of a sticking point for them, but there was no sense dwelling on it.

"Oh, does that mean that Mr. Lafitte is stuck there?" There was a shift in Charlie's tone that Dean could not fully read. He wished that he could see her. He'd maybe be able to gauge the meaning behind her words.

"For now. I think that I will be able to get it cleared before the evening rolls in." He wondered if she could actually talk or if she was in a room full of people. Her tone didn't tell him enough. "So, do you have company?"

"Dorothy is in the room next door. We got adjoining rooms." She didn't go on for a moment then asked, "Are you okay? You sound upset."

"The interview is just…" He stuttered into silence then continued a moment later, "It's unsettling. I don't know that it was a good idea to dive so far into the past. I think that maybe I should have let those sleeping dogs lie." He thought about cutting the conversation short. It wasn't likely going to help, but this was Charlie, and he couldn't treat her like the others. So, instead, he let the silence stretch while he waited for her to speak.

When she finally spoke, she said, "Dean, you know I love you right?"

"I know." His response was quiet, to the point.

"You are family. I don't expect you to talk about stuff that you aren't ready to talk about. I especially don't expect you to share all your deep dark with Mr. Lafitte there. However, I do think that sometimes it is best to let the words out. It can be healing. You can do a lot of damage to yourself by just pushing all of that down all of the time." The silence stretched out again then she added, "If it gets to be too much, you can always go back to the notes. The story is the safe place. Just go with the stories that we created. Benny isn't family. You don't owe him your soul."

"I know, but I already shared a little. It's like a crack in the damn now. I can't seem to stop myself from spilling out more. I try to reign it in, and then he asks just the right question and…" He trailed off into silence again. "When are you coming home?"

"I can hop a plane tonight." She sounded like she was moving now, packing maybe. She was always quick to decide a thing.

He heard a muffled voice in the background. _Dorothy_. "No, don't come home. I just wanted to know when you were. Don't cut your trip short."

"I'm coming home, Dean. I shouldn't have left you yet. You weren't ready." She was still rummaging around. He could hear her.

"I said no, Charlie. Please." He could hear her stopping. The rustling of fabrics and the pulling of zippers stopped. "I'm fine. You know that I just miss you sometimes. I'll just go visit with Benny. Pass the time. Do the interview. I'm really fine." He painted his words with colorful tones. He was being careful not to be too flowery. She would know.

"You sure?" He knew that he was successful then.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You have fun. Come home with good stories of great adventures." He was still peppering his delivery with an upbeat tone.

"I'll be home at the end of the week. Be good." She still sounded concerned, but not enough to hop on a plane.

"You too." With that he hung up. _That was close._ He didn't want to take this time away from her. She deserved this break. She had put her life on hold for him. Pushing it down was the least he could do. So he pushed it down plenty. He wondered if he could drag out the little interview break for just a while longer. He wasn't ready to go back into it. He glanced over at the door. He imagined that he could see it pulsing inward as if some beast were threatening to break through it. He sucked in a breath and held it. He closed his eyes and imagined safe places, warm hands, and cool sea water eyes. He felt his body relax so he lingered here for a moment longer, lost in the world he was creating.

* * *

Eventually he had to return to the library. He dragged his body down the hall and through the heavy doors. Benny was not there. The cameras were off and the air felt dead. He walked back out and down to the end of the hall. He had a room that might be called a living room. It had a television and a few other items for recreation. There was a pool table and a tall built-in shelving unit full of VHS tapes and cassettes. Everything was meticulously organized. Benny was sitting on the couch in there watching the muted TV.

"It works better with sound," Dean said as he leaned into the door frame.

"Maybe. Sometimes I get tired of all of the talking." Benny reached over to the remote and handed it over to Dean. "You can change it or turn up the volume if you want." Dean just waved it away and sat down on the other end of the couch.

"I think that you might be stuck here for the night. I remembered on my way down that my handyman is out 'til tomorrow. I could call in a stranger, but I actually don't know where to begin looking for someone." Dean fiddled with the fringe on the velvety pillows that had been tossed to the center of the couch.

"I had a bag packed anyway. I had planned on staying in town at the Sheraton. Luckily, I hadn't dropped off my stuff yet." Benny turned off the TV and angled himself at Dean. "You sure you don't mind? I mean, I could probably take a shovel to the mess."

"Of course I don't mind. It's not your fault that the driveway got washed out. If we have to blame a person, I'd blame Charlie. Plus, we'll likely get through the interview faster this way."

"Okay. Uh, why are we blaming Charlie for the bad weather? Just curious."

"Oh, we aren't blaming her for the weather, just the driveway." Dean smiled a little at Benny's look.

"And, not to beat a dead horse, but why are we blaming Charlie?"

"I keep telling her that we need to divert the creek that runs alongside the property, but she keeps telling me that I can't." Dean shifted his tone into his best impression of a whiney school girl, "It's bad for the eco-system. You'll hurt the little buggies and critters that rely on that creek." He shifted back into his own voice then. "She's a tree hugger. I can't do anything around here that might alter the natural environment too much. The creek is a bit of sore spot between us. Truth be told, I shouldn't make such a big thing about it, but it is down right annoying when it takes out the driveway. One of these days, I'm just going to fix it."

"She'll just make you put it back." Benny smiled back.

"Why do you think that I haven't done it yet." They both laughed. Dean got up. "You want to get the grand tour? We could pick out a room for you. I have several guest rooms that are spacious and accommodating." Dean swept an arm out in front of himself and Benny got up to follow him.

"You this accommodating with all of the reporter you meet?" They fell into step side by side as they wandered down the hall. At the other end they turned and climbed the stairs.

"Nope. Most are kind of irritating. I do the interview and get the hell out of Dodge. I don't have people over here much. I'm sort of surprised actually that Charlie had you come here." They got to the top and Dean opened the first door on the right. They both stepped in.

"Well, I feel all kinds of honored then that you would agree to do this. I never expected you to be so easy going when I met you at the party."

Dean shifted about and then asked, "Did I say something awful or something? I don't really remember much of our conversation. I had quite a bit to drink."

Benny walked farther into the room and peered out the window. "Nothing troubling. You were just really serious. I think that you were sad. I didn't ask much. I was worried that you would tell me things that I couldn't write about, and that I would go mad over it."

"Hmm. That's comforting, I think. At least I wasn't awful." Dean pushed his hands into his pockets and said, "So, this is the first guest room. I don't know that I recommend it though. Unless of course you like being close to the stairs, it really has nothing going for it. You don't even get an attached bathroom."

"Oh, so why show me it? I am way too spoiled to not have my own private privvy." He laughed at Dean and they walked back out to the hall. A few paces down and Dean opened a door on the right. This room was much more spacious. It had high ceilings and a bathroom off to the side. The window was tall like the one in Dean's room with a small door off to the side of it.

"The door takes you out onto the veranda. My room is similar."

"This should do fine." Benny walked over to the window and looked out. "The view is great."

"Yeah, even with the rain, it is gorgeous." They stood there for a few awkward seconds. "So, uh, do you want to see the rest of the space? You can say no, if you are tired or whatnot."

"Oh, totally. I'm rather curious. Dean Winchester in his natural habitat."

"Ha, that should be your opener."

They made their way back out into the hall and Benny turned back for a moment. "What's in those rooms?" There were two rooms that they skipped past. Both were on the right.

"Nothing worth looking at." Dean kept walking forward toward his end of the hall.

"You know that you just made me want to go look in those two rooms, right?"

"Well, those ones are off-limits. Sorry. Man's gotta have some privacy." Dean tried to sound light. His tone though, had obviously changed.

"Oh, that must be where you keep the secret porn stash, huh?"

"Ah, you caught me. And here I thought that I had been so good at my little deception."

"Yep, there is a new opener forming in my head now. _Dean Winchester, America's heartthrob, Secret porn hoarder._"

"Thanks, Benny. Looking forward to seeing the fallout from this interview." He opened the door to his room and waved Benny in. "This is my room."

"Nice bachelor pad."

"Hmm. I'm not sure that that is the best description." Dean felt a nervous little knot in his gut. _What made Benny call it that?_

"Really? Who did your decorating?"

"Me."

"Hmm. So, bachelor pad." Benny smiled. It seemed like it was meant to be disarming. It did not disarm Dean. He didn't know what to say though.

"I wonder what Charlie would have to say to your pronouncement." Dean took this path. He hoped that it was the right move. He could have ignored it, and plowed into a different path, but he didn't like the implication that came with accepting Benny's label. It was important that a certain image was maintained.

"I imagine that she would agree with me. Her room looked nothing like this." Benny walked around the room and he picked up little things here and there just to put them back down. He lifted Dean's book off of the nightstand and then pointedly walked over to the other nightstand that was barren and had been for some time. He ran his fingers across it.

Dean felt a slow boiling anger as Benny moved along the speculative path. "What are you implying?"

"That this is not Charlie's room. It is your room." Benny said it directly, no pause to show any contemplation. He looked over at Dean. He seemed to be waiting for an acknowledgement that Dean was unwilling to give.

"She has her own space, but this is our room." Dean continued to press the point, the lie.

"I see no evidence of that, but if you say so." Benny shrugged and walked away from the bedside as if he were ready to leave.

Dean stalked over to the closet and threw open the doors. It was a massive space. A full walk-in closet that contained all of his clothes neatly pressed and hung on one side. On the other were Charlie's dresses. Each and every evening gown was carefully hung on the opposite side from Dean's clothes. The dress from the most recent award's ceremony was at the edge nearest the door. Dean gesticulated at the clothes and said, "Evidence enough for you?"

Benny walked over and took a quick look into the closet before Dean slammed the door shut. "She has a lot of formal wear, huh?"

"Yeah, she does." Dean didn't see the point of the question.

"Hmm. It's nice of you to let her store it in here. I imagine that you don't need both halves of the closet." Benny turned back to the door.

Dean felt the irritation rising again. He pushed it down though. _Where does he get off? Why am I getting so mad? She doesn't sleep in here._ He stared at Benny as he came to a stop at the door. He did not want to go back to the interview. He was done. _I've given him enough._ "I think that I am going to call it an early night. I feel as though, maybe we are done with the interview."

Benny turned back to him. "Do you mean just for the night, or that you are done, done?"

"Done, done." Dean turned his back on him and added, "Feel free to utilize the guest room and to get whatever food you need. You can see yourself out tomorrow when the driveway is cleared." He turned back then and continued, "Also, I would appreciate it if you did not go poking your head into rooms that you have no business visiting."

Benny looked apologetic. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry. I just say what I'm thinking sometimes. I just…"

Dean cut him off, "Goodnight, Benny." He turned away again and heard the door close as Benny exited. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shaking. He folded them together and walked over to the window. He watched the lightning flash out in the distance. The crisp stab of light jarred him from his anger. He sank into the seat near the window and tried to pull himself together. _It doesn't matter if he knows. It doesn't matter if any of them know. Nothing matters anymore._ He pressed his head into his hands and closed his eyes.

* * *

The set of the _Righteous Man_ film should have sent him into a tailspin of depression. The days had been long and Zachariah was demanding in every way. He had hired on Cas, but he made it abundantly clear that it was against his better judgement. Their first scene together had been a fight scene, the very scene that Cole had walked out on just days before. Everyone seemed impressed by Cas skills. Dean found him easy to work with and a nice change from the people he usually had to contend with.

They had spent some evenings blocking out the fight scene before it was actually filmed. So when Zachariah called _action_ the scene was captured in just a couple of takes. Despite this, though, he should have been miserable. Zachariah, yelled at him, tormented him, threw a giant wad of gunk at his head after a particularly tough scene, and yet Dean found that on most days he was grinning from ear to ear.

After a particularly long day filled with running through hilly jungles semi-created by the set design team, Dean and the rest of the crew were released with Zachariah's grand pronouncement, "Since you really threw yourselves into this, I am giving you all the night off. I don't need to see any of you on set before 11:00 am tomorrow. Eat, sleep, and be merry, kiddies." His smile was smug, but Dean felt like letting out a little cheer. _Finally, a break_.

Cas was over at the food service truck, talking with a girl about something that made her laugh. Dean let himself watch. Cas was wearing his film clothes, a black tee and khaki pants. He had a gun holster slung low over his hips and a prop pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve. The girl leaned into him and whispered something in his ear. Her eyes rolled past him as she spoke and fell on Dean. He did not look away. The girl continued to whisper, then Cas scooped her up and spun them both around so that he was facing Dean.

His lip curled up at the edge. He gave Dean a little nod. The girl wrapped her arms around him a little. Cas let her. He kept watching Dean though. Dean kept watching him too. He felt weird about it after a few moments had passed. He walked off, away from the rest of the crew and out toward the nearby beach. They had roped it off, so it was rather deserted. They were also a ways away from the touristy areas that people tended to frequent when visiting the city. He kicked at the sand and decided to take off his shoes, feel the sand in his toes. He sat down and started plucking at his laces when a body crumpled down at his side. It was Cas.

"Going for a swim?" Cas asked him as he started taking off his own shoes.

"Uh, no. I didn't bring a suit out here."

"You don't need one."

"Oh really? I think that maybe you might be wrong about that."

"Really?" Cas sounded like he was joking.

"Uh, yeah, really. Plus, I'm not willing to give them all of this vista for free." Dean stood up then and did a little spin while casually running his arms down his torso. Cas laughed at him. "Actually, I just planned to walk on the beach without my shoes. Thought that I might like to feel the sand a bit."

Cas finished popping off his own shoes and stood beside Dean. "Mind if I join you?" They fell into step together, leaving their shoes behind to be collected later.

"Not at all. What happened to your friend?" Cas gave him a look that said something, but Dean decided not to think about it too much.

"I blew her off." They walked together along the sand just past the line where the water met the dryness.

"I think that you may have missed an opportunity there." Dean reached over a hand to the small of his back. "Maybe it's not too late. You should maybe go back."

"Not interested."

"Hmm. You certainly seemed to be a few minutes ago." Dean wasn't sure why he was being so pushy. It just seemed to be happening.

Cas didn't seem to mind too much. He did ask though, "Why are you so interested in her? Do you want me to introduce you?"

"Uh, no.' Dean didn't know what to say to that.

"Then what's up?"

"Just making conversation, Cas. It's what people do."

"Oh."

_So, Cas is basically failing at communication, but good god he is not failing at anything else._ Cas' physique was showcased well with the outfit that he was wearing. The sleeves were just high enough to show the muscles that seemed to be sculpted into lines of perfection. His body moved alongside Dean's like it was being pulled along by a melody. He had a certain grace that seemed to guide each step. Dean found himself glancing to his side repeatedly as they walked. He had let his hand fall back to his own space. There was really no reason to keep it at Cas' back. They were close to each other, though, close enough that their bodies brushed against each other with each step.

"So, are you happy with how the job is going?" Dean wanted to get Cas talking. They hadn't gotten to just talk much. It had all been meet-ups with a purpose. The practicing of the lines and the blocking of the scene that they did for the impromptu audition hardly counted as getting to know you activities. And Dean wanted to know Cas. Something in the way that he looked at Dean or at anything for that matter, was like he was seeing something for the first time, or maybe like he was seeing something deeper, and it made Dean want to get into his head, learn him a little.

"I am happy enough. I am worried that I am not doing a very good job." He looked out ahead of their path while he answered, so Dean could not really read him as he said it.

"You're doing great. I've worked with a few people that were new to the whole acting thing, and you aren't like them. You are a natural. Plus, you are really easy to anticipate. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I have a sense of how you are going to move in a scene, where you are going, and how you'll be when you get there." Dean noticed that Cas was looking at him while they walked, while he spoke. He added, "I hope that didn't sound weird."

"Comforting actually." Cas looked back at the path again.

"How so?"

"I felt the same way. I thought that I was just weird." He sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. "What made you decide to help me?" He stopped walking and Dean came to a halt beside him. They had walked a ways from everyone. It was actually rather deserted where they stood.

"I thought that you were interesting."

"I'm sure that you meet plenty of interesting people. What made you decide that I was interesting enough to get so much attention?" Cas turned to him more and Dean stood facing him.

"I guess that it was because you said that you would be fired. I kind of felt irritated by that. I mean, you seemed interesting, but I would never know much about you if you really got fired. Seemed kind of like a problem that I could fix." Dean started digging his toes into the sand. The little grains were warm between his toes. He stared at them intently, willing them to bury more of his foot. He didn't know why he had shared so much. He didn't usually share so much. He was a quiet man in most circumstances. He liked that he had a private life and a public persona that were completely separate. He wanted to let Cas in though. He wanted to confide and be free. It was nice to think that it could be possible to just be a little free.

Cas started digging his toes in the sand in front of Dean. Dean could feel them wriggling about toward his beneath the sand. He looked up at Cas and smiled a little. It was sort of an involuntary bit of sharing that his face was doing. He tried to push it back, but Cas had already seen the look and reciprocated. Dean felt his knees shake a little with the look, so he decided to sit down, right then and there. Cas joined him, with his back to the ocean, feet still planted in front of Dean's. "I guess that we are done walking."

"I guess so." Dean was still smiling. _What the Hell is going on?_ He focused on his feet again as he burrowed into the sand some more. His hands were resting at his sides, palms flat on the sand. He started picking up little handfuls of sand that he lifted only to let it pour from his fingertips. "So, where will you go when the film is done?"

"What do you mean?" Cas was drawing little designs into the sand, then smoothing the images away with his hand only to start again.

"I mean, where do you live when you are not on set?" Dean watched Cas as he answered. His lips curled up a little on one side like he couldn't keep committing to whole smiles. His eyes were what really got to Dean. They seemed to look right through him, like Cas was seeing his soul or something. He decided that he liked that. He liked that maybe Cas could really see him.

"I live in California most of the time. I like to travel." Cas' toes made contact with Dean's just under the sand. The air was not as humid as it had been in the early hours. The sun was setting just behind Cas, and Dean liked the way that the sky seemed to be bursts of reds and oranges. It was a fire behind Cas and it reminded Dean of the warmth that he had been feeling since earlier that day when Cas had thrown him to the ground in one swift move. It was just for a fight sequence that they were filming, but it had been expertly handled. Dean had been expertly handled, and Dean appreciated dealing with people that knew what they were doing and had respect for the craft.

"I live in California too. Southern or Northern?" Dean wiggled his toes against Cas' and smiled as Cas did the same.

"Southern, but only because I need to be close to the work. What about you?"

"Southern too. I have a small place over in Orange County. It's temporary, though. I need to find a place that is farther away from Hollywood and such."

"I managed that. I live out in Riverside County. It's a little bit of a schlep, but well worth it at the end of the day." Cas scooped sand up in his palm and poured it over their feet in a long beige stream.

"I might have to check that region out. I have to admit, I don't venture out to the east much."

"It's nice there if you like a more arid landscape. I like that there are areas that are less crowded." Cas kept scooping and pouring the sand and a respectable mound was forming.

Dean wiggled his feet a little and the sand mound dissipated a little. "I heard there's a lot of crime there."

"People in Orange County would focus on that. It's no worse than anywhere else. Well, maybe it is a little. It isn't a wealthy area, but I'm not going to hate a place just because some of the residents are poor and such."

Dean shifted a bit. He worried that he had offended him by raising a minor point about his neighborhood. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything."

"I'm not offended. It's just that people tend to focus on a lot of negatives when they talk about my neighborhood. It shouldn't bother me, but it does, because I think that they are really just judging the color of my neighborhood, and not the neighborhood as a whole. I chose the place, because I didn't want to live in some cookie cutter, white bread suburb." Cas got up a little but only enough to move over to Dean's side. Now they both faced the ocean and the fading sunset.

"Maybe when I get back, you can show me the neighborhood. I really do want to move to someplace better." Dean shifted a bit, his hand rested alongside Cas'. A small part of him wanted to take his hand, but he didn't know why. He just liked the idea of of being grounded with someone in this moment. Cas felt like he would provide that.

Cas reached up to his shoulder and rested his hand there for a second, thus cutting off Dean's desire to take his hand. Now he just wanted to keep from moving too much. He didn't want to make the contact end. Cas spoke then, "You like desert landscapes?"

"Yeah. I like the emptiness." Dean answered quietly.

"Well, my neighborhood isn't exactly in the desert, but I found this house a couple of months back that is a little removed from things. The land around it is sand and sagebrush. It is gorgeous. I wanted to go to the open house and walk through it, but I couldn't think of an excuse to do it. I mean I wasn't in the market for a purchase like that." He let his hand slip off of Dean's shoulder and back to the sand between them. "You could give me an excuse to go look at it."

"Sounds like a solid plan. Count me in." Dean pushed sand over Cas' feet at his side. Cas pushed sand over Dean's hand. It was a way of touching that could be excused. It was warmth and yet it was just sand and deniability.

"Of course, I'm assuming that the house will still be on the market when we get back. We're going to be here for like four months, so anything can happen in that amount of time." There was something in the tone of Cas' words that made Dean look at him a little more deeply. He leaned forward a little unconsciously to take in his face. Cas turned to him a little too.

He was thinking of doing something stupid. He licked his lips a little just thinking about it. Dean thought that it might be okay. He was certainly getting a vibe. He had to be careful though. His buddy Aaron lost his job for doing something stupid, and the industry had a long memory for certain things. _Maybe I can be careful and stupid at the same time. _He watched Cas out of the corner of his eyes. They had dropped into silence. He felt his shoulders tensing up with each moment that he spent planning his next move.

The tension was getting to be a bit much. He decided to break the silence, "Kinda nice that Zachariah is giving us a late start tomorrow."

"He's probably just doing it to justify keeping us on set until some ungodly hour tomorrow." It certainly hadn't taken Cas long to get a read on Zachariah.

"Yeah, you may be right there. It's probably the first sign of the apocalypse." Dean grinned a little and added, "So, last night of freedom before Zack really starts kicking our asses, got any plans tonight?"

"Not really. I might just go back to my room and stare at the walls."

"Wow, you're a real fun guy, Cas." Dean chuckled a little.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"Not sure, but alcohol will be involved." Dean got up then, "You should come with."

"I'll have to check my schedule." Dean reached down to him to help him up.

"You do that." He pulled Cas up a little too hard, and he fell forward a little into Dean's chest. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a movement. Someone was heading toward them. He stepped back, releasing Cas from his grasp.

"Hey, Meg." Cas called out to her. Meg was in charge of wardrobe. She did not look pleased.

She walked right up to them with purpose. Her deep chestnut brown hair blowing about with the sea breeze that was kicking up. "Why do you both hate me? Seriously, why do you hate me."

"Uh, we don't." Dean turned to Cas a little then back to Meg.

"How often does Zachariah go easy on his crew? Seriously? I mean, you don't know, because you haven't done a film with him, but seriously, this is like a miracle, getting a whole night off and a late call back time." Her hands were flailing about a little as she spoke.

"Why are you upset?" Cas interrupted her diatribe.

"Just look at you. You've got sand all over the khakis. The cigarettes are even mashed up in your sleeve. They're supposed to look crisp tomorrow. Plus, you both go wandering off, making me wait. You know I can't leave here while you're off running around in my clothes." She trailed off a little at the end and Dean and Cas both looked a little apologetic.

"Sorry, Meg. I didn't realize." Cas started making his way past her, back to the set.

Dean just stood there for a second. Then Meg raised an eyebrow to him and said, "You too, Winchester. Get a move on."

"Oh, sorry Meg. Won't happen again." He jogged a little to catch up with Cas. He glanced over at him as he fell into step at his side. He caught the look on his face, a little sheepish, but it was there none the less. A small upturn of the lips. "Guess we gotta make sure not to piss Meg off in the future."

"Might as well start making up to her now." Cas slowed up and turned, walking backwards as he did so. "Hey, Meg. You should go out drinking with us."

That had not been part of Dean's plan, but he could roll with it. "Yeah, blow off the work 'til tomorrow." Dean tossed back to her.

"A few of us were planning to hit the bars downtown. You all gonna do the same?" She asked.

"That's the plan," Dean replied.

"Then let's see how big we can make this group." She laughed and picked up the pace until she was wedged between them. Cas turned back around. "Don't think this gets you both off my shit list. I require tequila from both of you before either of you get forgiveness." They laughed at her and Cas wrapped an arm around her waist.

"You got it," Cas said. Dean looked away and pushed aside the little bit of jealousy that swirled up and through him.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: So, here is the next crazy long installment. Each chunk will be like this, though. Thanks all for the early encouragement. Hope you all like this bit too.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean got up after a long, mostly sleep deprived night. He got dressed and made his way downstairs to confirm that his house guest had departed. The storm had not lessened the night before, and the occasional flashes of lightning from beyond his window had almost as much to do with his sleeplessness as the memories and the interview.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at the front door to his home. Next to the door was all the evidence that he needed to determine that his day was not going as he had hoped it would. He had hoped that Benny would have been gone by now. He had even lingered in his room until 10:00 in the hopes that he would be able to avoid any and all confrontations. Hunger got the better of him though. He walked down the stairs and when he reached the bottom, he gave Benny's duffle bag a slight kick.

He headed to the sun room next, hoping for a few bites of food without the company that would likely be there. He paused at the door and listened. He did not hear any tell-tale noises, so he entered. The room was empty. The breakfast spread was still laid out, albeit it was all likely a little cold. He walked over to the side table and filled a mug with coffee. He picked up a piece of toast and began absently chewing on it. He carried his mug and toast to the window and looked out at the driveway. It was still a mess. There was no sign that anything had been done to clear it. _Shit, shit, shit._ He popped the last of the toast into his mouth and left the room. _Where's that bastard?_

He stalked down the hall to the library. He could hear the shuffling noises from within before he entered. Benny was taking down his cameras. He had one of them packed into a large case. He was working on a second one. He looked up and saw Dean enter the room. "You're still here." Dean was brusque and walked over to the window with the pronouncement.

Benny stopped fiddling with the camera and came over to his side. They both looked out at the driveway that Dean had already assessed. Benny spoke, "Your guy came to clear it, but the storm got worse. The water was still washing stuff over the embankment. He was parked down on the other side. He hollered over to me that he would come back when the storm eased up. That was two hours ago. It hasn't eased up."

"I see." Dean did not turn from the scene in front of him. _Looks like it will be a day spent in my room._

Benny reached up to him and touched his arm. Dean flinched away and shot a look at him. Benny stepped back. "Look, Dean, I'm really sorry. I had no business talking to you like that. I got too comfortable. It's no excuse, though, and I'm sorry."

Dean just stood there. It wasn't an apology that worked for him. "You don't see things accurately, and you make up stuff. I'm uncomfortable with that."

"Like I said, I am really sorry." Benny maintained eye contact as he said it. Dean wavered a little.

"The things that you implied matter. I need you to retract it."

"What do you mean?" Benny looked confused.

"I need you to say that it is Charlie's room too." Dean looked back at him, steadily.

"Whatever you say."

"Not good enough."

"It's Charlie's room." Benny huffed out. "We good?"

"Better." Dean walked over to the couch and sat down. Benny sat across from him. "I still don't want to keep going with the interview."

"I understand. I blew it. I took your trust and crushed it." Benny was wringing his hands in front of him.

"I wouldn't go that far. I didn't ever really trust you. You are a journalist after all." Dean felt a slight smile materialize on his face.

"That I am. Still, I wish that I had not so colossally screwed up." Benny sounded like a defeated man. Dean felt like easing up on him a little.

"If it helps, I don't hold a grudge. I just can't do the interview anymore. It was more than the things that you said up there. It was too much of the past. I can't keep holding onto all of that stuff." Dean leaned back into the chair and threw his arms out over the sides.

"Funny, you seemed like you were enjoying the trip down memory lane. I didn't realize that it was upsetting you. You should have told me. I would have stopped." Benny looked genuinely sorry.

"You managed to give me breaks at the right times. You seem to be a little intuitive about some things." Dean didn't know why he was so inclined, but he felt like engaging this man in conversation, not an interview. He felt like he wanted to know something real. So he directed their conversation down a different path. "Where do you come from?"

Benny chuckled a little. "Doesn't my accent give me away?"

"Well, yeah, I can tell you hail from Louisiana. That is pretty obvious. I guess that I mean, where are you from now?"

"You asking where I live?"

"Yeah. You can tell a lot about a person from where they make their home." Dean brought his hands back up and rested them on his legs.

Benny got up and sat back down only now he was in the seat next to Dean's chair. "I live in San Diego."

"Well, now I thought that I had a fair drive to work each day."

"I can do most of my work from home. I also find that people don't mind meeting in San Diego every now and then. It's God's country there."

"It is nice. Too many people though." Dean pulled his legs up onto the chair and wrapped his arms around them. He looked like a ball of Dean.

"I don't live in the heart of town or anything. I live a bit outside of it. I can see the ocean and the hills from my living room. Got a wrap around porch for the evenings. I swear I can hear the cicadas if I close my eyes and concentrate."

"San Diego has cicadas?"

"No, but I can still hear them. I hear them when I feel like I am home. I can close my eyes and see my mom rolling out dough in the kitchen, my dad chopping wood in the yard. I can hear my brother hollering down the road about some fool thing that has gotten him all excited. I can smell the bayou not far from us. The night falls on it, and the cicadas emerge. The night sounds lull me into sleep and dreams." Benny had closed his eyes with the memory. He opened them slowly and looked at Dean.

"I've never been to Louisiana. It kind of sounds magical." Dean thought that his own words sounded odd, but it was too late; they had already escaped.

"It is. I need to go back."

"Your parents still live there?" Dean wondered why he was bothering. _Well, what else are we going to do? Might as well pass the time until he leaves._

"My mom is. Dad died some time ago."

"How'd he die?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Benny got up then and marched over to the window. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. The muted light from outside threw his face into light and shadow. It made him look rougher somehow. Dean just sat there and looked at him. _Looks like we all have our demons._

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Benny looked back at him. "It's not like you knew. I pretty much did the same thing to you all yesterday." Dean got up and walked over to him.

"Guess that makes us even now." Dean reached a hand up to his shoulder and gave him a pat.

Benny reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "I think I might step out a sec and have a smoke."

"You're a smoker?"

"Trying to quit." He paused a beat and added, "Failing." Dean laughed at him.

"I had the habit briefly. I get it." Benny turned to go. "Hey, wait. You'll get drenched out there. Let's just crack a window. You can blow the smoke out there." Dean pushed the window open and Benny came back. He sat on the edge of the couch nearest the window and perched the cigarette in his mouth. He flicked the lighter and brought the flame up. Dean watched, remembering the warm rush of smoke in his own lungs, Cas sitting across from him in the empty diner. He shook his head. "Got an extra?" He held out his hand.

"You sure?" Benny raised a brow.

"Yeah, don't act like my mother." Benny chuckled and passed him a cigarette. Dean leaned over to the flame that Benny raised to him. He took a long slow drag and tipped his head back against the window. He leaned to the opening and blew out the first cloud of smoke into the world. Benny did the same. They each continued like this for a time, silent in their own thoughts. "Thanks."

"Not sure you should be thanking me. Likely just ruined your healthy self." Benny moved his hand to the window and held the cigarette at the opening, letting it burn down a little. Dean did the same, their hands resting side by side as the smoke twisted up in a kind of dance out the window.

"What made you become a reporter?"

"Nosy. Too damn nosy for my own good. I liked other people's stories. They kept me from dwelling too much on my own." Benny pulled the cigarette back to his lips then returned it to the window. He dipped and blew out the window.

"What's your story?" Dean really wanted to know what was lurking under Benny's carefully pulled together surface.

"I don't think we'll be talking about that." Benny looked out the window then back at Dean.

"Okay." It wasn't okay, not really. He had told him a lot. He felt like Benny should spill a little.

"Hmm. You're upset." Dean didn't look at him. He flicked the ash off the cigarette out the window. He pulled it in and took a drag. He didn't respond. "I'm sorry." Dean looked up at him then. "This seems to be my mantra today."

"Whatever. It just seems like I have shared a fair amount with you. Reciprocity might make things feel even."

"Not sure that when one agrees to an interview, that one should expect an even exchange." Benny let the words roll out in a slow drawl. Dean saw that his cigarette was nearly depleted. He handed Benny his cigarette. He got up and walked over to a far cabinet. He opened it and pulled out a small ashtray. He carried it back to the window and held it out for Benny. Benny stubbed out what was left of his cigarette. Dean took his cigarette back and leaned back into the window. "I was married once." The admission seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Not anymore?"

"No." The answer was short and stretched out into silence. Dean leaned to the window and exhaled. He glanced back at Benny as he returned to his original position. He seemed to be lost in a world of his own thoughts. His next words were quiet too. "She left some time ago. Then she died. I couldn't fix things." Benny paused a bit between each sentence and it punctuated the gaps in the story, the things that Dean could only imagine. Benny looked up and searched Dean's face for understanding. Dean kept from staring back too hard. He pushed himself into a neutral place.

"Why'd she leave you?" He hoped that the question was not too pushy.

"She caught me in a compromising position. I betrayed her trust. Knowing me was the worst thing that ever happened to her." Benny fell quiet again. "I lost everything because I was stupid."

"You cheated on her?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't you work through it. People make mistakes." Dean stubbed out the last of the cigarette in the ashtray then carried it over to the table and set it down. He took a seat on the couch that was between the chairs. Benny slid down into the couch on the other end.

"If it had just been simple, maybe. It wasn't…" He stopped for a moment and added, "simple."

"Nothing ever is." Dean fell into silence after that. He realized that Benny was likely sharing something rather private. He wanted to give him room enough to share more if he wanted.

"I have never moved on from her. I know that I don't deserve to move on from her. So, now I let the world do its thing, and I merely occupy space in it. One day maybe I'll forgive myself. That seems like a highly unlikely outcome for me though."

"You tried talking with her after she found out?" Dean was trying to piece together the gaps. _What made his act of cheating worthy of a lifelong punishment?_

"She wouldn't talk right after. We talked a little later. Usually it just involved yelling, name-calling, that sort of thing. I met up with her at a club one night hoping that I would be able to talk with her. We did talk for a bit, but in the end I found out that she only put up with me so that she could get some money off of me. She became pretty active in the club scene. Most nights you could find her on Sunset. Funny thing was that her crowd use to be my crowd, before I got out of it. She picked up some habits from them. They tainted her. I tainted her. She use to be so much more." He leaned down and rested his head on his knees. Dean looked away, unhappy with the part that he had played in Benny's current moment of sorrow.

"I'm sure that there was more at play than what you did. I bet that you are carrying more than your fair share of the blame." Dean was trying to be comforting. The look from Benny stopped him though.

"You don't know a damn thing." He stopped then added, "Sorry, but you don't." They were quiet for a moment. Dean's mind slipped briefly back into the past, his own darkness seemed to be a slight mirror of Benny's. He wondered if that was why he had been so comfortable sharing, the kindred spirit thing. He wondered too if he could learn more. He felt like there were little details that Benny was withholding.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about my own guilt. I guess that If I could convince you that it wasn't all you, that then I might be able to believe it for myself too." Dean offered up this personal nugget in the hopes that it would smooth things over a little.

"What could you have to feel guilty about? Are you a liar? Are you cheating on someone?" Benny's omission of Charlie's name for the word _someone_ should have bothered him, but he pushed it aside.

"That sounds like an interview question." Dean didn't sound upset though.

"Off the record. This is just us talking." Benny seemed to open up again. He was not curling in on himself like he had been before.

"Let's just say that my entire life is a giant lie. Let's just say that when you live like that, you are cheating someone out of a full relationship. Let's just say that doing that to someone that you love is the worst kind of thing you can experience. I live with the weight of that on my chest everyday, and there will never be an end to it." Dean felt himself tense up with the admission. He wanted to be honest. He knew though, that there was no room for that in this world, especially not with Benny.

"I think, Dean, that we might be very similar, you and I. I think that the things that we aren't saying, are the same." He gave Dean a very pointed look. Dean stared back. "You don't have to trust me, but, if you did, I would not betray that trust."

"Thank you, Benny. I don't even trust myself though. I'm poison, and I don't let people get too close."

"That seems to be too harsh. Sounds like maybe you are carrying more than your fair share of the blame for something."

"I'm not, and you couldn't begin to know how wrong you are." Dean wanted a topic change. He didn't have a safe avenue to pursue though. "When was the last time that you saw her, your wife?"

"Just before she died. She'd lost so much weight from the drugs. Heroin will do that to you. I sat with her in the hospital. She had had a car accident. I watched her die. She never regained consciousness enough to even know that I was there. I guess that I had hoped to gain some forgiveness, some absolution. Should've known that that would never be possible."

"Was the person that you slept with someone she knew or something? I mean, it seems like there is more than you are saying."

"Like I said, Dean, there's a lot that neither of us is saying, but it is the same. You really want me to fess up? Might make you uncomfortable, and I kind of like feeling comfortable. I think you like feeling comfortable too." Benny leveled his gaze onto Dean again. The stare seemed to bore into Dean. He wondered for a moment if he should just let it go.

"I think that lies have a way of making things worse. I can stand being uncomfortable if you want to share." Dean thought that this response felt safe like he had thrown the responsibility for words into Benny's hands. He hadn't expected Benny to reply with a question.

"When was the last time that you saw Cas?"

Dean felt the silence. He did not want to think about that. "A little over a year ago, but you already knew that."

"I did. Do you feel uncomfortable?" Benny still stared at him.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I just do. I thought that you were going to share. Why are you asking me about Cas all of a sudden?"

"I slept with a man. Andrea caught me with a man." Benny huffed out in exasperation. He looked away.

"Oh." Dean couldn't think of anymore to say.

"As to why I am asking about Cas…" He paused and caught Dean's eye again in a stare that seemed to bore into him. "I'm going to admit, that all of my questions are going to be about Cas? I heard your speech that night. I also heard what everyone else didn't. When you sat next to me at the bar, it was fate and perseverance on my part, Dean. I had followed you to every party. I abused my press pass in every conceivable way. I never managed to get to you though. You were always engaged in other interviews. By the last party, I had all but given up. I plunked myself down at the bar and then you showed up. I guess that I basically just had to give up trying."

"So, you were a bit of a stalker then?" Dean smirked over at him.

"Not quite. I was just doing my job, chasing the story. Your speech was _the_ story. I wanted to know the story behind the speech. I wanted to, needed to know what lead you to that moment. I had to know about the profound bond of…"He paused a moment before inserting the next word. He colored it with a tone that said how inaccurate it was, "_friendship_ that you and Cas had. I wanted to know why you cared so much, how you came to care so much. It mattered a great deal. It mattered more than it should have to me. I wanted to know for personal reasons even more than for professional reasons, and I hounded Charlie for days before she agreed to this. My greatest worry was that I would be denied and that I would never know. This story matters. Your story matters. I would beg to hear it, but I don't imagine that begging would convince you."

"It wouldn't. This is not my story to tell anymore. There are things that I will never share. There are some things though, that I can share, and if you want to continue with the interview, I believe that I can give you a story. That is, I can give you a story if you still want one."

"_The _story."

"_A _story." Their emphasis made all the difference. There were some stories that he would never be willing to share. There were some things that should belong to just them.

"I'll take what I can get. Thanks, Dean."

Dean gave him a nod, and Benny got up to start setting up his cameras again. Dean did not trust him completely, but trust was never something that came easy to Dean, and in the past it had been something that he had given to the wrong sorts of folks. He knew now to be careful. He had learned that some time ago.

* * *

It became a thing, going out to the bars at the end of the night. Most nights, Dean fell into his bed a little drunk. It was doing damage to his headspace. He was getting up in the morning on time for the schedule that Zachariah had set out, but that didn't mean that he was always all there. Some nights were worse than others. He found that there were some nights when he would come back to his room plastered. Most of those nights were due to Cas. He had been drinking a lot too, or so Dean thought. He seemed to be able to hold his liquor better than Dean, though. It almost seemed like he could drink his way through a liquor store while Dean could only manage half as much. Watching Cas drunkenly sway into Meg on the dance floor, was not helping him. He needed a distraction.

He scanned the crowds for a distraction. _The brunette at the bar with sun darkened skin would do_, he thought. He sauntered up to her and sidled into the seat next to her. "Well, isn't this a nice surprise. Dean Winchester is gonna buy me a beer." Her voice was melodious. He liked the way that it oozed into his ear, syrupy sweet. He raised two fingers to the bartender and that little wave brought him over to take the order.

"Two beers." Dean tossed off, and two bottles appeared on the bar. "So, why're you sitting alone?" Something about her mass of brown hair cascading in waves around her slender face reminded him somehow of Cas.

"Waiting for the right one to come along." She raised an eyebrow and then held out a hand, "My name's Lisa."

"Dean, but you already seemed to know that." He smiled at her, then tipped back the beer in a long gulp. The drinks from earlier were swiftly overtaking his senses. Everything seemed a little fuzzier than normal.

"I work in wardrobe with Meg." She nodded over to where Meg and Cas were. "Wow, they sure are hitting it off tonight." Dean turned and followed her gaze. He saw Cas pressed up on Meg in the corner, his face buried in her neck.

"That sure came out of nowhere," He muttered.

He turned back to Lisa and she said, "Uh, not really. She's been talking about making the big move all week. They've been gravitating toward each other pretty steadily." Dean's face was a mask. He didn't let it show that he had noticed, or that he had cared. He had noticed it all. He had looked with greedy eyes at each little touch. The way that she could just rake her hands through his messy brown hair was every kind of unfair. He wanted to do that. He wanted to be the one pressed back into the wall, bodies blanketing each other. He didn't let all of that show though.

He put on a grin and said, "Guess I wasn't paying much attention to them." He gave Lisa a look that said let's get out of here. She swallowed back a little more beer and stood with him. He lowered his hand to her back and they walked out together. Dean cast a glance back at Cas and Meg. Cas broke away and laughed. Meg was grinning at him, arms wrapped around him, low on his back. Cas looked back toward the dance floor, then the bar. His look changed as his eyes swept the room, then he found Dean. He had looked serious and kind of off. When he found Dean, the look softened. His lip curled up a little at the edge. Dean moved his hand from Lisa's back and gave Cas a little salute before he turned to go.

As he stepped out of the club to the sidewalk, Lisa at his side, he felt a crazy force slam into his back. He was lifted off the ground in a kind of odd hug. He struggled a little and turned to look back at who it was that was crazy enough or even strong enough to lift him up. "Now, Dean, what the hell. You don't even say goodbye to Meg and I. We're your wingmen. We haven't even gotten to approve of your date yet."

"You both keeping tabs on Dean's sex life now?" Lisa laughed.

"Sure am, Lisa. Meg told me all about you." Cas laughed. He was still holding Dean.

"Hey, Cas, uh, personal space." He nodded at the ground, and Cas set him down.

"Sorry, Dean." He stepped back and smiled sheepishly at the ground then at Dean.

"So, we're heading out," Dean said. He was starting to really feel the alcohol. He started to stumble a little and Cas caught him as he fell a little off the sidewalk. "Come on Leese," he beckoned with a little wave. Cas was still cradling his arm.

"I hate to be your mom, but I think Lisa should take a raincheck." Meg offered up as she stepped up to Dean's other side.

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Meg. Dean's fine." Lisa looked from Meg to Dean then over to Cas as if she were looking for back-up from him.

"Nah, Dean needs to sleep this off. He has a stupid schedule tomorrow thanks to Zachariah's complete lack of empathy. Tell him to pace himself tomorrow so that he can stay out and play." Cas began pushing Dean along by the elbow in the general direction of their hotel.

"Seriously?" Lisa looked at him with thinly veiled irritation. She saw that Meg was onboard with Cas' plan and stormed back into the bar in a huff.

"Well, that went well." Meg offered.

"Why'd you go and do that you two?" Dean stumbled a little more. It was crazy how fast things had shifted for him. One minute he was fine, the next he was barely keeping it together.

"Come on, Romeo. Let's get you to bed." Cas wrapped an arm around his waist and took some of Dean's weight as he slumped a little into Cas' side. Meg stood on his opposite side and wrapped her arm around Dean too; although, Dean did not lean into her.

When they got back to the hotel she left them at the elevator. "You gonna be able to handle him on your own?" She asked.

"I got this. He shouldn't be too much trouble." Cas bumped the button on the elevator for Dean's floor. "See you tomorrow."

"Okie, dokie." She turned from him and wandered off. The elevator door closed and Dean remained utterly silent. He didn't really know what to say.

"She's nice," he finally muttered.

"Yeah, she is." The elevator door opened and Cas helped propel Dean out into the hall toward his room. They got to his door and Cas said, "Where's your key?"

"Mmmpocket."

"Which pocket?"

"I don't know. You should look for it." Dean smirked down at Cas. Normally, he was more cautious with his words, with Cas too. He leaned back against the door and felt like his legs were going to give.

"As much fun as that might be, I'm not the kind of guy to take advantage of a drunk. Now, is it in the front?" Cas pushed his hand up against Dean's thigh, feeling for the key through his jeans. He ran his hands around to the back and checked his pockets there. Dean was sure that he felt a little squeeze as Cas dipped his hands into his back pockets, both at once.

"Sure, seems like you might be breaking your rules a little." Dean leaned toward him a little, hoping to get a bit more contact.

Cas ran his hand around the front and dipped his hand into one of Dean's front pockets. The key was there. He pulled it out slowly and waved it in front of Dean's face. "Next time we go out, you should drink less."

"You should talk."

"I'm not drunk, I just put on a good show. There's a lot of freedom that comes with that. You get a pass for a lot of things. You should do the same." Cas leaned into him a little as he pressed the key into the door lock. He turned it and pushed the door open by pushing his body more forcefully into Dean's. Dean fell through a little, but Cas caught him with a hand that swiftly looped around Dean's waist.

"I don't see any benefit to this sobriety thing that you are proposing." _Certainly not going to watch him grope Meg while sober, that's for damn sure._

Cas started pulling off layers of Dean's clothing. Dean didn't seem to realize that there was something quite nice about that until he was already missing a few layers up top. Then he felt the back of his legs press into the foot of the bed. He almost tumbled back. Cas' hands steadied him though, by grabbing his belt loops. His thumbs were pressed up into the skin that was just above his waistband. Cas leaned into a whisper. "There are many benefits."

His hands moved to the front of Dean's jeans and flicked open the button. Dean felt a warmth that was not the alcohol spreading through him. He reached up to Cas and cupped his arms. Cas unzipped Dean's pants. They were so close. Close like he had wanted all evening and even before. They were close in a way that he would think about again and again when Cas was elsewhere. He looked down at himself and watched Cas' fingers work into his pants. He brushed past Dean's arousal in a way that made him grin. Cas looked at him steadily and Dean wanted to lean into that grin, drink it down. He didn't though. Cas' fingers moved past his initial contact to the sides of his legs within Dean's pants. The moment had been short, but felt more eternal to Dean, a kind of bond was being established. Cas tugged down Dean's pants, and Dean fell back onto the bed. He took Cas with him.

Cas was pressed on top of him. He could feel his ragged breathing. He was so conscious of Cas' heartbeat drumming away with his own. He was ready for whatever the night would hold, and he had sobered up enough, he thought, to truly enjoy this. He rasped out, "Cas." The name like a prayer on his lips seemed to set off another smile on Cas' face, but he moved away. He got up slowly. He stooped down at the foot of the bed and grabbed Dean's pants at his ankles and pulled them off. He came back up and looked down on Dean with affection painted on his face. He walked up to the head of the bed and peeled back the blankets.

Dean watched his moves. "Come on Dean." Cas nodded to the area that he had opened up on the bed. "Get under the blankets."

"Make me." _Must be the drink talking. _He knew that he sounded a little childish.

"I can't. You're too big." Cas' eyes swept down him.

Dean chuckled a little, but he scooted up to the blankets. Cas pulled them up over him. It was then that Dean realized that Cas was not getting into the bed with him. He reached out and grabbed his arm. "Cas?"

"Dean." He leaned down to Dean and pushed two fingers to his forehead. He traced out the contours of a frown line there and lingered at his hair. The gesture was comforting and sent Dean's mind into another place, a place of quiet.

"Get in bed." Dean's voice fell into a whisper.

"Like I said before. I don't take advantage of drunk people."

"I'm way sober now." Dean felt like he was spinning a little though, and Cas could tell. He could see the look on his face, taking him in.

"There are benefits to sobriety. Maybe now you will believe me." He pressed a kiss to Dean's head and said, "Goodnight, Dean."

Dean couldn't let him leave. He just couldn't. "Stay."

"You need to sleep. Tomorrow will be hell if you don't."

"Stay." Dean's tone shifted to one of quiet desperation. "Please." Cas' fingers traced a path along Dean's temple into his hair. His thumb stroked Dean's cheek.

"Okay. I'll be over there though." He pointed at the low, cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He pulled the comforter off the bed and dragged it over. He tossed himself into the seat and looked over at Dean through the dark room. Dean could see his eyes reflecting the moonlight that poured in a little through the window.

Dean's eyes slowly fell shut. The night had been heavy upon him. He vowed to drink less tomorrow. He opened his eyes one last time before sleep overtook him and looked on Cas who was so close and yet not close enough.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: This is shorter than I wanted it to be, but I figured you all would rather have it than not. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

The storm seemed to break a little as Dean's story drew to a close. Benny looked at him with a hint of a smile. He got up and turned off the cameras. He came back to the seat a moment later. "So, if I got all of the details right, you were kind of a heavy drinker, and it started while you were on that film."

"I prefer functional alcoholic." Dean smirked over at Benny.

"Regardless, it began there?"

"Yes."

"You also first met Lisa on one of the notorious party nights that many of us heard about back when the film was first released?" Benny began pulling out his notepad.

"Yes. The tabloids may have exaggerated things a bit where that was concerned, but yes, we met then." Dean's face dropped a little and he sunk down further into the seat.

"Did Cas like her?"

Dean looked up with a slight tilt to his head. He was trying to gauge the question before he answered. "He was ambivalent, I think." _He was not._

"Hmm. Seems like he would have had a lot of opinions about that situation." He paused a moment then continued, "Seeing as he was your best friend and all."

"Well, it was different then. You have to remember that we had only just met a few months prior." Dean tried to sweep it aside. He knew though that the reality was completely different. Benny couldn't truly know though. He had left out too many details and focused on the mundane instead. If he had been fully sharing, he would have talked about the way that he would catch Cas looking at him when he thought no one else could see. He would have talked about the fight that came along later, when things went awry. He would have mentioned how he knew almost from the first that Cas was everything. He let out a sigh as his mind drifted. _It was too late now to fix the past. What sense is there in focusing on it now?_ He thought as he shifted about in his seat.

Benny flipped through the notebook back to the beginning. "Would you mind if I took a different path?"

"You want the cameras on for it?" Dean waved at them.

"No, I just want to know things because I'm curious."

"Well, shoot then."

Benny read something and then asked, "So, why do you send Lisa money every month?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean became markedly uncomfortable.

"I managed to dig some things up while I waited for Charlie to approve of the interview. One of the things that I found out was that you send her a check each month. I don't get why. The courts determined that you had no responsibility in the matter."

Dean debated. He did not want to share. It was a whole mess of details that he did not want to give to Benny. It was too tied to everything else. He opened his mouth though, and words fell out. "The kid shouldn't have to suffer, and I'm in a position to help. So, I help." Benny jotted something down. "Don't write about it. She doesn't need that sort of attention. She's a good woman and a good mother."

"I won't write about it. I just wanted to know."

"I thought that all of your questions were going to be about Cas."

"Would you rather I go back down that path now?" Benny had to laugh a little at that.

"Kind of."

"Well, what did Cas think of the money that you were sending to her?"

"That was my concern, not his." Dean couldn't shake the feeling he was getting. He didn't want to dive down this rabbit hole. It was the hardest part.

"I feel like a break might be in order for a bit. You mind if I go take advantage of the guest room for a spell?"

"Not at all. Just let me know when you want to continue." Dean got up and stretched out. Benny did the same and then strolled out with purpose.

Dean walked over to the window and stretched out his arms to the frame at his sides. He watched the water flow by on the overflowing creek. He closed his eyes a little and thought back to the last month on the set and all of his regrets.

* * *

There were days now where Zachariah had Dean and Cas filming nonstop. There were days where he had them completing what seemed like infinite takes. Cas was patient. Dean was not. He drank more. Occasionally, Cas would watch him and look a little sad. Dean tried not to think about it too much. They didn't go out every night together. Some nights Cas went with just Meg. Some nights Dean went with just Lisa. In that way, they began drifting apart.

Cas came to his room one morning and found Lisa in a towel, greeting him at the door. "He's running late," she had said.

Dean tipped his head out of the bathroom. "Well, let him in." Lisa looked back at him like he was crazy.

"I'm not exactly dressed for company."

"I'll just be going." Cas muttered a little something under his breathe, but Dean didn't catch it. He did hear him say, "Hurry up. I don't feel like spending all night on the set, just because you couldn't be professional."

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, towel at his waist. "What are you getting upset about?"

"Nothing, Dean." Cas stalked off down the hall, but Dean felt guilty rather than angry. He hadn't talked with Cas about the drunken night from before. He also didn't sober up his evenings enough to make things work out with Cas. There was drinking every night. He never gave himself enough time to consider why he had chosen that particular coping mechanism. When he found Cas in the chair in the morning, it had been awkward. He didn't know what to say. _Hey, so, last night was crazy huh? So, uh, wanna try out crazy again? _ Then he left the room, and Dean failed repeatedly to keep himself from the comfort of drinking.

He swiftly got dressed and reached down to the blouse at the side of the bed. He tossed it to Lisa. "I should probably hurry."

"He's kind of a dick." She got dressed quickly too though.

"No, he's not. He is just a perfectionist and I'm not." Dean ran his hand through his hair, pressing it down into place a little. "I'm thinking that I might not go out tonight. I need to get my head clear."

"Should I come over tonight then?" She sauntered up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"No, I need to take it easy for a night. You don't mind, do you?"

"I'll try to get over it. Other fish in the sea, you know." She smirked.

"Oh, I'll be replaced after just one evening, huh?" Dean laughed at her and pressed a kiss down into her mess of brown hair.

"It'll just be a temporary replacing. You have your night off." She smiled at him as he grabbed his bag and walked out.

"See you Leese." He had taken to calling her that instead of Lisa. It had felt good to have her around. He liked her attitude and the way that it was easy with her. He didn't like the guilt though. He knew that he really only wanted Cas. He knew that when he looked at Lisa, touched Lisa, drank her mouth, that he was not thinking of her at all.

He made his way to the set via a taxi. Normally, he'd share the ride with Cas or someone from the crew. He went alone today, though. Once he got to the set, he was in make-up and then wardrobe. Cas had already gone through the stages, just before him, so they did not see each other or talk. Meg came into the wardrobe trailer with his outfit for the day. "You're a dumbass Dean."

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Dean sat down in the chair in the corner. She walked over and hung up the clothes in front of him.

"You really don't get it do you?"

"Enlighten me. What's got your panties all up in a bunch?"

"You and Cas. He has been a good friend to you and the least you can do is not flaunt your utter disdain for him." She huffed around. It was just the two of them in the trailer.

"I like Cas. When did I do this flaunting that you're talking about?"

"Today, when he came to your room." She gave him a pointed look.

"I don't understand."

"Lisa and the towels. I swear, Dean, why do you have to be so cruel to him?"

"How is that cruel?"

"He likes you, a lot, and you know it. You like him too. But you couldn't even give him one sober night? Not even one…" She stomped back over to him. "You know why we spend so much time together, don't you? Don't you?" She was taking on an angry edge to her tone.

"Because you like him and want to get in his pants?" There was a question to the tone that he used, but he had never thought that there was any other reason for them to be around each other. They were always all over each other.

"I'm his unicorn."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I am the distraction. The mythical creature that gets to play the part of his mythical girlfriend. He gets to then have the thing that he truly wants without the trouble that normally comes with it."

"I'm still not following." Dean got up. He felt uncomfortable.

"He wants you, Dean. I am just around to keep people from knowing about you two."

Dean didn't know what to say to that. He shifted back on his heels and stared at her. "Why would you pretend to be into him if you aren't? What do you get out of this?" He realized that he should have gone into denial, but the whole thing had taken him by surprise.

"I don't have traditional tastes either. He's my unicorn too, and helping him gives me a reason to get up in the morning. I'm actually a good person, Dean. Maybe I shouldn't have told you any of this, but Cas is really suffering. You maybe don't see it with Lisa being all kinds of distracting, but he is. You need to talk to him, and you need to ease up on the drinking. It's making you sloppy on the set. Cas is having to cover for you an awful lot. He sliced his hand open the other day because of you."

"What are you talking about? When did he get hurt?" Dean was going to rush out, go find Cas and see for himself.

"He's fine. You wouldn't have seen it. You moved too fast and he fell back when he was avoiding your swing. He covered it up, but I saw." Dean felt even worse. Meg started pulling off layers of his clothing to help him get dressed. It should have felt awkward, but Dean was too distracted by thoughts of Cas to think much of it. The door opened and in walked Lisa though. She took one look at Meg and Dean and it must have looked a little bad. She turned and stormed back out, letting the door slam behind her as she went.

"Well, that's gonna be fun to deal with later." Dean pulled the clothes from Meg's outstretched hand and finished getting dressed on his own.

* * *

The day progressed, and Cas was surly and distant. Dean tried to engage him in conversation, but made no progress.

Today was every kind of awkward. He was going to be in a sex scene. Normally, he wouldn't even balk at it, but today he felt weird about it. It was going to be a pivotal scene in the film. His character had been on a journey that seemed to be leading to utter destruction. He was certain that all would be lost, that at the least he would die. This act was a connection for his character to the world. It was meant to represent hope and the idea that love could save him.

Dean was worried about how he would be able to do this with Meg's words swimming in his head. It also didn't help that Cas was going to be on set. The area would be restricted to just the essential cast and crew members, but Cas was going to be in the end portion of the scene. His character was going to kill Dean's love interest. To say that Dean was concerned would be an understatement. He was thinking about the end of the day. He was trying to find a way to talk to Cas alone, to convey to him that they should find a way to grab a bite after wrapping the last scene of the day. _How do I do this without it sounding stupid?_

Dean was wearing a tight white tee shirt, tucked into severely damaged beige khakis. He saw Anna, the actress playing his love interest, standing off to the side. She was in a dark blue button up blouse paired with faded blue jeans. He gave her a nod and she smiled back. He scanned the perimeter, looking for Cas. Lisa was just leaving. He caught her eye and she glared back at him. He continued scanning until he saw Cas off at the edge of the set with Zachariah and Meg. Zachariah was pantomiming something, and Cas was following his movements, even mirroring some of them. Meg was making last minute adjustments to his outfit. Someone came over and handed Cas the prop gun that he would use in the scene and then Zachariah turned and stalked away. It was then that Cas caught Dean staring at him. He turned away and began speaking with Meg.

She looked at Dean and said a couple of words, or so Dean imagined, since he couldn't hear them from this distance. Cas looked back at him while Meg continued to speak with him. He held the gaze for some time, his expression changing, softening the more Meg spoke. The two of them started to walk over when Dean heard Zachariah's hollering out from behind him. "Dean Winchester, get your ass over here."

He turned quickly to Zachariah, "Sorry. I was zoning out."

"Yeah, seems to be a habit of yours. Now get on your mark." Zachariah waved absently over to where Dean needed to stand. He gave Anna a smile while the non-essential crew members were cleared out.

"You ready?" Dean asked good naturedly.

"As ready as one ever is for such things." Anna smiled back. "How 'bout you?"

"Dunno. I think that it is a little different for me. Camera will be paying more attention to you than me." He stopped talking and realized that he was maybe being rude. "Uh, I'm sorry. I think that I just made this awkward.

"No, you're right. At least this scene forwards the plot. It only bothers me when they throw this stuff in gratuitously. Like seriously, did you see _The Hitch_? I mean I know that horror films are legally obligated to show a woman's breasts at least twice, but come on. So tired of it." She rolled her shoulders and stretched out her arms over her head. Her red hair was feathered out around her face almost like Farrah Fawcett in _Charlie's Angels._

They began the scene and Dean wore a look of intensity. He moved closer to Anna as she said her lines. He looked past her at one point and saw Cas. He tried not to be distracted. He reached out to Anna's cheek and smoothed back her hair. There was a camera at his side. He was supposed to lean into her and speak softly into her ear. He was supposed to tell her that he loved her. Instead he leaned in and stared at Cas. He paused a beat, but not long enough for it to look like a mistake. He ran his hand down her arm and kept looking at Cas. "You make me want to live through this. Without you there is no me. I need you. I need you." Zachariah called cut. Dean stepped back.

"Did you forget your lines?" The cameras were adjusted and Anna moved her hair back into place.

"No, I just didn't think that Michael would say the whole 'I love you' thing. He doesn't really say that sort of stuff. He's one of those macho dudes you know." Dean put his hands in his pockets and tipped back and forth on his heels.

"Here's the thing, Dean, I don't pay you to think. Say the fucking lines, from the script. Play your goddamn part." Zachariah moved back to his seat puffed up and said to the crowd, "Now if Mr. Winchester doesn't try changing any more scenes we can get out of here early tonight. Everyone ready?"

The scene started again, this time when Dean leaned into Anna, he said the lines from the script. He did not look at Cas. He felt stupid. Being yelled at like that raised a lot of issues in Dean. It sent him back to his dad and childhood. He tossed a weight onto his back that colored his performance. He felt like it seemed false, but Zachariah loved it. He proclaimed it damn near perfect by the end of the day. When Cas came in and killed Anna, it took only two takes. Dean felt even more pathetic. He took way more takes to get his scene right.

When Zachariah finally released them, Dean had nearly forgotten that he had been hoping to see Cas. Now he just wanted to not see anyone. He wanted to slink away. He wanted to not be seen. He made it to his trailer and out of his costume. He changed and threw open the door. Cas was on the other side, just standing there.

"Damn. Sorry. I almost hit you." Dean came down the stairs and stood across from Cas.

"That you did." Cas shrugged though. "No big. It'll teach me not to stand too close to your door."

"Did you need something?" Dean was still feeling awkward about the whole day. He wasn't trying to sound rude, but clearly Cas took Dean's tone in that way.

"Sorry, clearly you are busy." He started to head off, but Dean grabbed his arm, stopping him short.

"I'm not busy, just irritable. I'm sorry, Cas. Today was kinda awful." Dean let his arm go.

"Oh."

"So, um, let's try this again. Uh, did you need something, Cas." Dean shifted about, and his tone was quieter.

"I was just going to see if you wanted to get a bite to eat. I found a place just outside of town that actually serves burgers. I can't vouch for them or anything, but burgers." Cas smiled a little and Dean answered immediately.

"Yeah. You just had to say burgers. I've been wanting a burger for weeks."

"Weeks? I've been wanting them for months. So, I guess that you'll be joining me then." He started walking off and gave Dean the head nod that said, _well, come on then._

Dean walked alongside him. They got to the beach and cut up to the street. They walked on a few blocks before hailing a cab. Cas gave the directions in perfect Spanish. Dean smiled and thought to himself, _I need to learn a little of that._ They rode on into the evening until the taxi pulled up in front of a little beachside bar with a sign out front proclaiming that they had burgers. It was all in English. The place seemed to be quite popular too, if the number of cars surrounding it were any indication. "Seems like a pretty big crowd."

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting that." Cas squinted out the window at the place. "We don't have to go here if you don't want.'

"Nah, let's give it a shot. Besides, burgers." Dean got out of the cab and peered down from his open door back inside at Cas as he slid out.

They walked into the place and they were immediately enveloped in the melodies coming from the stage. Cas told the waitress that there would be two of them, and then asked, "Why is it so busy?"

"Oh, we always get like this when the cover bands are here." She pointed over at the guys on the stage. "We get a few local guys that like to cover the American songs. It brings out the crowds. Tonight we have a Duran Duran cover band, a Queen cover band, and a Pink Floyd cover band. It might be the best lineup we've had in, well, ever." She started heading to the booths on the far wall. Cas leaned over to her and said something that Dean couldn't hear. She smiled and turned to a booth tucked away farther from the crowds. It was a little dark, but it had a comfortable vibe to it. Dean thought that maybe he could actually talk with Cas here, away from the crowds and such.

They slid in and Dean found himself sitting rather close to Cas. They were in one of those rounded booths with the gold flecked formica tops. Dean drummed on the top of the table and stared down at his menu. He glanced up at the band. They were singing something that seemed familiar. He thought that it might be something from Duran Duran. He hummed along, located the burgers, and then pushed aside the menu. Dean turned to Cas and said, "figure out what you want?" Cas was looking back at him, then he leaned into Dean a little. His lips found the edge of Dean's lips, just the edge though, nothing more.

"Yes." Cas smirked a little then pushed his menu aside. "Cheeseburger and fries."

"Sounds like that'll make two of us." Dean was a little flushed and flustered.

"Hmm, so you want the same thing?" Cas' hand moved up onto Dean's leg.

"Yes." Dean leaned back toward Cas and kissed him just as Cas had kissed him a moment before. "Thought that I made that clear the other night at the hotel."

"I thought that I made it clear that sobriety is a necessity. Kinda felt like rejection when you kept getting shitfaced every night." The conversation took a negative tonal path. Dean slipped back into his own personal space in the booth. Cas didn't bridge the gap. The waitress came and took their orders and then went away.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Everybody has their own demons to fight. I just...I'm sorry." Cas slid closer to Dean then.

Dean looked down at Cas' hand next to his. He remembered that Meg had said that he had gotten hurt because of Dean. He reached down and scooped up Cas' hand into his and flipped it over to inspect it. He could see the cut that was barely healed. It looked like a jagged mess. "Oh, Cas. I'm so sorry."

Cas started to pull his hand away, but Dean wouldn't let him. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. I can't believe that I did this to you. Damn it." Dean pulled Cas' hand to his lips and kissed him. "I'm so sorry." He felt like he couldn't say enough. He also just kept repeating himself.

Cas leaned over to him and kissed him again, this time more centered on his lips. "Stop apologizing."

"I feel awful."

"Get over it. I already did. Meg shouldn't have told you."

"Well, I'm glad that she did. I'd still have my head up my ass if it weren't for her. I thought that you and she had a, you know, a thing going on. She explained things, and she tore me up about how I was treating you, hand wounds and all." Dean hadn't let go of Cas' hand even though he now held it under the table safely tucked away from anyone that might walk by. Truth be told, they didn't have much to worry about as they were in the most secluded place in the bar. Dean was pretty sure that he could get away with more than kissing in this corner if he got up the nerve to try.

Cas broke his concentration, though, "What about Lisa? You and she, definitely have a, you know, a thing."

"It isn't serious." Dean tried to deflect.

"You know how I said that I don't take advantage of drunks?" Dean nodded a little. "Well, I also don't help people cheat. If you two have a thing, then you don't have me. You understand?"

"She and I are done. She walked in on Meg helping me with my clothes and she thought that something else was going on."

"That isn't breaking up. That's just confusing. You need to talk to her. Let her down easy."

"What, then you'll help me find my own unicorn?"

"Maybe." Cas squeezed Dean's hand a little. "You'd be so much work."

"Nah, I'm totally low maintenance." Dean laughed.

"Sure you are." Cas laughed now too. "The things we should do." Cas leveled his gaze on him and neither one was laughing anymore.

"You might have to explain that one back at my room." Dean wanted to lean into another kiss, but he caught, out of the corner of his eye, the movement. The waitress was coming back with their food. She plunked down the burgers and smiled.

"You boys want anything to drink besides the waters?"

"Naw, we're good." Dean responded for both of them. They hadn't even touched the water. He wanted the privacy back. They ate. They didn't say much. Dean worried that he would spoil the mood by saying something stupid. _Story of my life._ They finished the meal and paid the bill. "So, what now?" Dean asked as he got up out of the booth and stood next to Cas. "Do we go back to my place or yours?"

"We walk a bit. It's a nice night. No need to rush back to that depressing hotel." Cas raised a hand to his back and gave him a little nudge toward the door.

"I didn't think that the hotel was that bad."

"You must have a minimum of taste then." He smiled at Dean. "I also didn't want to rush things."

"Oh, I didn't mean to, uh, sorry." Dean and Cas stepped out into the night. The crowds had dissipated a bit from when they had first arrived.

Cas moved his hand down to Dean's and pulled him out along the path that wound around the bar to the beach. Cas laughed a little. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I have every intention of going back to your room with you. I just thought that we might not need to rush back just yet." He squeezed Dean's hand a little as they walked. "Remember when we walked together before?"

"Yeah. It was nice." Dean could see the path ahead. It was dropping down to a long stretch of sand and surf. It was rounded out a little with a tall cliff looming up like a wall, sheltering the beach from the outside world. The moonlight blanketed everything in a white shine that seemed to reflect the new feelings that burned bright in Dean's chest. He was nervous though too. "You know we have to be careful, right?"

"I know. I've been stupid before. Learned my lesson." When they got to the sand, they stopped and Cas pulled off his shoes and socks, tucked the socks into his shoes, and carried them in the hand that was not formerly holding Dean's.

Dean stooped down and pulled off his own shoes and reached back for Cas' hand again. They made their way along the beach. "What happened before? If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't mind. I worked with a guy on my old job, the Spanish language program that I mentioned before. He was interested, I think, but he hadn't had much opportunity to explore such things I guess. I was dumb. I kissed him. At first, I think that he was going to go along with it, but then someone made a noise in the hall outside of the dressing room and he panicked."

"What did he do?" Dean could see Cas' expression clouding over in the moonlight. He added, "You don't have to say if it makes you uncomfortable."

Cas pulled Dean's hand up to his lips and kissed his fingers lightly then lowered them back to his side. "He told the producer and the director about my indiscretion. They killed off my character almost immediately. It was mercy on their part. They never told anyone why they were doing it. My reputation remained unsullied. However, it hurt. I guess I thought that I would be on the show a bit longer. Funny thing, killing off my character actually made me more popular. I got a bunch of offers after that, but I needed a new start, so I moved back up to southern California."

"What about the guy? You ever talk to him after it was all said and done?" They were near the end of the beach where the cliff stretched out to the water and blocked off the path of their wanderings.

"No. I had no interest in making him feel bad. I didn't hate him or anything. I just learned that one has to be careful. I'm much more careful now. Although, I think that I haven't been as careful as I should have been with you. You do make things a little difficult."

Dean grinned a half upturned lip at him. "I try." Cas laughed a little.

"You are trying."

"Hey, I think that you meant something by that." Dean let his hand go and gave him a playful push on the shoulder. Cas laughed at him again.

"Nothing gets by you." Cas pulled off a few layers of clothing then and looked out at the water. "I'm going swimming."

Dean looked at him a little confused. "It's the middle of the night, Cas."

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"I don't know." He was not focused on his words as Cas was quickly becoming naked in front of him.

"You gonna swim too?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"Well, Dean, it would be weird to swim alone. You just going to sit up here and watch?"

"Uh, no." Cas reached over then and started helping Dean lose some of his clothes too. He stopped before he got to Dean's pants and ran off for the water. "Is it cold?" Dean hollered over.

"Not at all." Cas had a tone though, and Dean wasn't sure if he believed him. He tossed aside his remaining clothes though and ran to join him. The first splash of water was not exactly warm.

"Shit, Cas. It is a little on the cold side."

"Don't be a wuss. Come on." Cas splashed him until he was much more drenched, so Dean dove ahead into the water.

He came up next to Cas, feet planted on the sand below. He wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss into his neck. "It's crazy to think that we've only known each other for a few months now. I feel like I've known you forever."

"Same here." Cas kissed him along his jaw, heading toward his lips. His hands ran up Dean's hips to his back and held him in place. Their bodies swayed together in the sea.

"So, I guess you got what you wanted, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Cas angled his head up to Dean, eyes glistening like stars.

"When we walked together a while back, you tried to convince me to go swimming." Dean could feel tiny goosebumps on Cas' back. He tried to rub warmth into him. Cas did the same with him.

"Well, I'm glad that it worked out this way. I don't think that we would have gotten away with all of this nudity in broad daylight." Cas let him go. "I'm actually going to swim for a second, try to get warm." He dove off, away from Dean and swam out about a hundred yards or so. Dean made his way deeper into the water, but didn't swim out to Cas.

Cas stopped a ways off and was treading water for a few moments before he began swimming back to Dean. When he reached Dean, he swooped up out of the water and tried to push Dean under, all in good humor of course. "Hey, no fair. I wasn't ready."

"You always gotta be ready. You never know what might jump out at you."

"Yeah, like the dreaded Novak." Cas launched at Dean again, but this time Dean was ready for him. He dodged and Cas went past him. "Ha, nice try." Then Cas launched again and caught him around his middle. They both fell back and went under. Cas' mouth found Dean's while they were under the water. He kissed him fully while they floated back up to the surface. They parted for air and Dean said, "We should get Zachariah to give us some fight sequences that take place in the water." Dean liked the way that Cas' body moved about in the water, all grace and fluidity.

"No way, Winchester. I wouldn't be able to concentrate. Besides, it is going to be hard enough, pun intended, just staying focused in our dry land fight scenes, with you all pressed up on me with your stupid face."

"Hey, my face isn't stupid." He leaned into Cas then and brushed a kiss past his lips, slowly making his way down to his neck.

"Okay, by stupid, I meant gorgeous. Stupid gorgeous, like no one should be allowed to look that good, gorgeous." He arched back a little as Dean ran his hand down Cas' body. He pulled Cas in tight and rocked his body into him, bringing about as much friction as he could in the water. Cas pressed his head to Dean as he rocked back into him, the two of them in sync with each other. "Plus, Zachariah doesn't get this side of you. This is just for me. Okay?"

Dean stared into Cas' face as his eyes closed a little; he seemed to be concentrating on their movements. "Anything you want. God, that feels good. Keep doing that." They stayed that way for a time and neither felt the need to be in any hurry to get back to the hotel. Here, beneath the stars, with only the moon watching them, they could just focus on each other. The rest of the world could wait.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: Thanks for reading my little story that seems to be getting a little long. Hope you all are enjoying it. This one isn't getting as many ****reviews or views as my other stuff. Oh well, still gonna finish it. Thanks rainystv for liking the storytelling. Thanks 1hotpepper for the comment. Thanks smalls907 for the comment and the fic rec. I haven't read _Wildflowers_ yet. I'll add it to my list. Thanks also Mummabro for what I think was a heart, but ended up being just a 3; right back at ya :)**


	5. Chapter 5

He had eaten at one point, but he did not remember when it had happened. He had returned to the library afterwards, but he did not remember the steps that had taken him there. Benny had been absent for some time and the house felt empty. It felt cold. The storm was kicking up outside again and the silence inside was broken by the howling winds that swirled around the desert landscape. Dean had spent too much time thinking today. Most days he could let his mind slip onto thoughts of the past in brief bursts. When the memories would get to being too much, Dean could just refocus, think about something in the present.

Today was not kind and neither was yesterday. There seemed to be no escape from the past. He ran his hands along the shelf of books, looking for something, while at the same time knowing that he shouldn't. The box use to sit on his nightstand. Later it was in the nightstand drawer. Now it was here, on a shelf, collecting dust. It was here and needed to be here, where he couldn't see it everyday, where he couldn't touch it without some conscious effort to do so.

He pulled it from the shelf and cradled it to his chest. The metal edges poking through his shirt a little provided a tolerable pain, a distracting pain from what was already swirling around inside of him. He should not have let his mind dip back to the beach. He should not have let his mind linger on Cas' touch, his lips tracing a path of affection over his body. He should not have let himself go there. It was tearing him apart.

He slipped down to the floor, the box still pressed to his chest, the storm outside howling, and he cried. Dean had cried before. It was different then, more controlled. Charlie had been there, his unicorn. She had held him as a few tiny tears slipped out. He had not fallen apart though. He did not devolve into shaking sobs, a mess on the library floor like now. She was his stability. She had held him up, reminding him that he could be okay. She had pulled him close, rocked him back and forth in her arms, murmuring little words of comfort and affection into his ear.

But she was not here now. She was not here when he needed her the most. Now, there was just him, and Benny, if you could count his presence for anything. Dean was trying to keep it together. In the past, when his mind would become too overwhelmed, he would just think about something else, or distract himself with some activity. Now, there was just Benny, Benny who would not let him leave the path, Benny who kept reminding him of everything that mattered and could never be again. _What's the point of this? Why am I letting this happen?_ And lightning flashed outside the window as if to remind him that there was no escape so long as the storm raged outside.

He knew that he shouldn't open the box. It was bad enough as it was. His body was shaking. Great hulking gasps were heaving from him. He pulled the box up to his face. He laid on the floor now, fetal position. His legs were curled up nearly to his chest. The box was just a few inches from his face. He lifted the lid and tipped the box down to look inside. He was crying too much now. Everything was blurry, but he could see the ring. It was silver and glowed as the next lightning flash found its way into the room, illuminating everything.

His fingers found the ring with fumbling motions. He pulled it out and clutched it to his chest. He rocked a bit as he moved it to his lips. _Come back to me. Please just come back. I can't live like this, I just can't. And she won't let me die either. Please, just come back to me. I can't do this. I'm not strong enough._ Sometimes he wondered if he could long for him enough to pull him back to him. He wondered if he could need Cas enough for him to somehow find his way home. He didn't hear the footsteps. He felt a hand at his back though. It was warm and strong.

Cas had always known how to bring him comfort with just such a move, a light pressure to a spot either low on his back or on his shoulder. With that simple move, he could easily redirect all of his troubled thoughts. He felt the space near his head growing less empty as someone was sitting there. He felt his body being lifted a little, his head resting on someone's leg. The hands on him, smoothed his hair back affectionately. His sobs still controlled him. His mind still felt like broken pieces of the past and present all stirred into a pile of glass. Every piece hurt. The hands still stroked his hair. "You needed to stay, Cas. I needed you to stay." He was sobbing out the words. The hands still pressed comfort into him.

Dean could not stop. He could not go on either. He closed his eyes hoping that he wouldn't see anything there. It was a risk. It was where Cas was always with him, in dreams and remembrances. "Breathe, Dean. Just breathe." The voice was soothing, a now too familiar drawl that wasn't Cas. Dean breathed, though. He concentrated on each sharp stab. Benny's hands found his forehead, where they pressed comfort. The pressure was a distraction from all that he was feeling.

He rolled over a little and looked up at Benny. He questioned his actions in his own mind. Letting Benny see this side of him could be the end of everything. He stilled and looked up steadily at Benny's face. His hands smoothed back Dean's hair. Dean held the ring. Benny reached down to his hand then and Dean followed the movement. Benny turned Dean's hand up and looked into his slightly opened palm. The ring sat there, cold, an empty orb. He took the ring from Dean's hand and looked at it closely. Dean felt a strange emptiness when Benny took the ring. Benny was looking at the inscription now. Dean wondered if he should stop him. He didn't stop him. He felt like he was giving up. He was giving up.

"Yours forever." Benny read out loud. He returned the ring to Dean's hand.

"It should have been forever. He broke his promise." Dean spoke quietly as he turned away from Benny's gaze.

"Did he?"

"I'm here. He's not. That's a broken promise." Dean was letting anger creep in, so that he could deal with the sorrow. Benny kept listening, kept running his fingers through Dean's hair. "I'll never get over it."

"Maybe."

"Thanks for the comfort."

"You're welcome." Dean turned back to Benny, irritated. "I only meant that sometimes it doesn't get better, just more tolerable. That's not better, just different. Not a day goes by that I don't think of Andrea. She haunts me. I imagine that your mind is haunted too."

"Some days are worse than others."

"Does it help to talk about it, about him?"

"Do I look better to you?" Dean sat up then, leaned into his knees that were now tucked up to his chest.

"Looks can be deceiving. I think that maybe you needed to talk. I think that in the long run that this might help. It has to hurt first though." Benny scooted up close to Dean as he spoke. He put an arm over his shoulder. It wasn't a hug, but instead a type of _I'm right here_ kind of move, a _you're not alone, _move. Dean stayed still and concentrated on the warmth that came from Benny. Dean fiddled with the ring in his hand. He slipped it on and off of his finger.

"Do you ever wear it?"

"Sometimes. Mostly no. I try to hide it from myself. I try to keep from thinking of him too much. I just don't have much left in me any more to deal with it all." Dean glanced over at Benny then. "I shouldn't be telling you any of this. This is going to ruin me."

"I'm not sharing it, so I don't see how you will be ruined."

"You will. It is what journalists do." Dean looked away from him and down at the ring that was on his hand. He balled up that hand into a fist and held it close to his lips.

"I said that I won't share this part of your story. You don't have to believe me, but I won't." Benny was not touching Dean's shoulder any more.

"Doesn't matter. I think that I want to be done. I think that I don't care anymore. Nothing matters. Do whatever." Dean looked back at him.

Benny held the gaze. "I want to know your story, but not to tell it. I want to know, because I think that it might be the most important story I will ever hear. I want to hear it because, I want to know that someone in the world found a love that I was always too scared to pursue. I admire you Dean. I always thought that there was something to your friendship with Cas. A small part of me loved the idea that maybe you two had figured out how to live in this world and have each other too. I had wanted that for myself once. In the end, I just caused grief. So, I lived vicariously through you two, or what I had hoped was you two."

"I'm afraid of where this is taking me. I'm scared, Benny. I don't think that I can talk about this anymore."

"I understand."

"I also think that if I don't, it could be worse in a different way. Some days I don't want to live." Dean admitted this while staring off at the wall, rocking a little.

"Please live." Benny subtly moved closer and closer until he was back at Dean's side.

"Charlie won't let me end it. She made me stop. I live because she makes me." He looked at Benny quickly then away.

Benny's hand came up to the back of Dean's head, where the hairline met the back of his neck. He began massaging the muscles there a little. "You need to find a reason in yourself too. It's important. You have to have a little faith that the world has something more for you, some higher purpose."

Dean huffed. "Higher purpose, my ass."

"Sometimes I'm not elegant." Benny let out a tiny laugh. Dean looked over and smiled. The mood shifted a little.

"Thanks, Benny." Dean muttered out the words quietly. Benny responded by just sitting, rubbing the tension out of Dean's neck. Dean let him. He also let his mind drift back a little into his memories. He wondered if he should trust Benny with the truth. He looked back at him and really took in what he could behind Benny's eyes. They were kind eyes. The wrinkles at the edges seemed inviting. "I want to tell you more about Cas and me."

"I want to hear more about you and Cas." He smiled at Dean.

Dean closed his eyes and leaned into Benny's hand a little. " I don't even know where to begin. I'm afraid that it will be uncomfortable."

"I won't judge you, so there is that."

"I never tell the truth about us. I have a million made up tales."

"Tell me something real. I need to hear something real, Dean." Dean sat there a beat and imagined the waves lapping at his feet, the calm sea breeze, and Cas. The old world seemed to materialize in his mind. It became solid and real. It was almost like he could smell the salt on the air, the crisp, coastal scents that he had come to associate with purity and later with love. It was Mazatlan, and they were in love.

* * *

_I love him._ He remembered when he had first come to think it. They had sat on rickety chairs outside of a small cafe. The feet of the chairs seemed to dig into the sand. They had been careful since that night at the beach. They had been careful and happy. There was something to the sneaking around that added to the passion of it all. The nights together were all consuming and intense. Dean had never thought that he would feel like this, though. This was more than the afterglow of feverish nights. It was more than a passing thing too. He wanted this to last. He looked at Cas and saw everything that he had wanted. Cas winked at him with a little smirk. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and tapped them on the edge of Dean's menu. "See anything you like." It had become their little joke. Dean swatted away the cigarettes that Cas was still tapping on his menu.

Cas pulled one out and put it in his mouth. He cupped the lighter at the end of it and took in a few drags to coax it to lighting. Dean smiled at him. "Charlie is going to be out here soon."

"So you keep saying. Should I be jealous?" He laughed a little when he said it.

"Oh, yeah totally. I'm sure that once she is here, I'll just toss you aside like yesterday's garbage." Dean laughed at him. Then he added, "I think you'll like her. She's a little weird, like you."

"I'm not weird, you are."

"Truth hurts, huh Cas?" Dean had been enjoying their endless banter. Sometimes it even spilled over into their work. They would pull pranks on each other. Once Cas filled his shoes with whipped cream. The pranks went on back and forth until they had gotten a little ridiculous.

This morning was a prime example of the ridiculous. So this morning, Dean poured honey into Cas' jacket pockets. With the shoes, Dean just took them off, cleaned up, and went back to work. With Cas' situation though, it had been more difficult. He didn't discover the honey until he was in the middle of a scene. He put his hands into his pockets and realized that something was wrong. He couldn't let on, though, because there would be hell to pay with Zachariah. He just kept his hands in his pockets and finished delivering his lines. Luckily, the posture worked with the scene. When the scene came to an end, Cas finally pulled out his hands. The viscous stuff streamed off of him in gooey strands.

Zachariah had looked at him with a mask of confusion. "What the hell is that?"

Cas held his dripping hands out away from him. "It seems as though I have found some honey." Cas lifted a honey soaked finger to his mouth and licked away some of the stuff. Zachariah shook his head and walked away. Dean watched Cas' reaction with pleasure. He was doing his best not to laugh. "You look pleased with yourself." Cas flicked his fingers out at Dean, but the honey did not fly with the move, so he instead made like he was going to grab Dean with his honey hands.

"I don't think so." Dean ducked away.

"This is going to take forever to clean off. I'm never going to get lunch at this rate."

"Least you got plenty of honey to tide you over 'til dinner." Dean had to laugh now. Cas wrinkled his nose at him. "Actually, go get cleaned up and then meet me at Mort's. I'll get our food ordered, then you won't have to go without."

"You're buying." Cas tossed back as he headed off to his trailer to get cleaned up. Dean wandered off on that note towards Mort's on the beach. And that was where he would be joined by Cas later with his tight white tee-shirt, his cigarette resting on his lips, and his devil may care smirk. That was where he would first realize that he, in fact, was in love. He would think about it all the rest of that day. He wondered if it was too soon to declare it. He wondered if Cas felt it too.

They ate their meal and talked about their plans. Their filming schedule had gotten a little lighter. They were down to mere days left. Dean felt a little sad about that. He wondered if leaving Mazatlan would change things. He worried that it would. How would he get to see Cas everyday if they weren't on a job together. _I'll have to talk to Charlie about getting us on another job together._

Cas snapped his fingers in front of Dean then. "Hey. Where did you go? I don't think that you heard a word I've been saying."

"Oh, sorry. Kinda lost in planning."

"Planning?"

Dean shifted about a bit and pulled out his wallet to pay the bill. "Yeah, I was thinking that I should talk to Charlie about my next job." He counted out the bills onto the tray and looked to Cas. "That look like the right amount?" Cas nodded. "I think that maybe she could find me something that would pair me up with you again."

Cas leaned back a little into his chair. "As much as I would like to work with you again, I don't think that it would be wise to do so. I think that it would cause people to speculate."

Dean looked disappointed. "Yeah, you're probably right. I guess that I just didn't want to," He stopped and really looked at Cas, "I don't want to spend a bunch of time not seeing you."

"Now, who's cheesy, Winchester." Cas reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, nothing too affectionate, just the kind of thing that you might do for your brother or a really close friend. Dean got up then and stalked off down the beach.

Cas caught up with him. There were a lot of people out, laying on colorful towels, wearing bright bathing suits. Dean found a winding path through them. Up ahead it seemed to clear out a bit, but the beach was not empty. "You don't get it." He was trying to keep his voice under control. He didn't want to be mad.

Cas kept up with Dean's pace, his arm brushing Dean's with each step. "I get it. I just thought that we made jokes when things got too serious." Dean looked at him and saw that his expression had lost some of the lightheartedness from earlier. His eyes seemed serious, too serious. Dean felt guilty about that. They reached the less populated portion of the beach and found a bench. They sat together facing the surf and the bright sunshiney sky.

Dean squinted a little at the world in front of him and then he turned to Cas. "Sometimes I think that this is pretty easy for you. You just seem like you plan to film these last couple of days and then you'll be gone."

"Is that what you think?"

"Yeah, sometimes." Dean looked away. He had noticed that Cas looked unhappy about the assessment.

"So, you think that all this time, I was just spending time with you to get my rocks off? You think that you were just some casual thing to me?" Cas sounded irritated, but he was keeping his tone low. It was causing Dean to shrink in on himself a little.

"It's just that every day feels like a countdown to the end. I am happy, and then I think about how many days are left, and I just feel miserable. You don't seem miserable."

"You haven't either if we are being honest. You've seemed silly and frivolous. You've been pulling bigger and bigger pranks on me each day. You laugh loud and long at stupid jokes like you couldn't be happier. I haven't been doing that. I don't know if you've noticed, but I get quieter when I am unhappy." Dean thought about Cas' words for a moment. He had been quieter lately. _Shit, he's unhappy. I made him unhappy._ Cas continued, "I'm not a machine you know. I have feelings. Sometimes I have doubts. I don't know how to handle all of this."

"You have doubts." Dean was nervous now. _Was this a break-up?_

"Not about you. I know what I feel about you. I worry about whether or not this can work once we get home. I don't know how it will be different, but I certainly know that it will be." He began rubbing his hands together in front of him. He leaned down; it almost looked like he was praying. "I don't envy you, the weight that is now on your shoulders. I feel guilty for putting it there. You probably would have been just fine with screwing around with Lisa then heading back home to your safe, happy life. Now you have this,and all the complications that come with it."

"I don't regret a thing," Dean said, and Cas looked over at him.

"Right now, I don't either." They smiled at each other. "So, what do we do?"

"You tell me that you won't just disappear on me when we get back home. You tell me that I'll still see you."

"You want that? I mean it could really complicate your life. It's different down here. It's like we've been insulated from it all," Cas watched Dean's reaction as he spoke.

Dean wanted to storm off again, but he didn't. _How could he not see it?_ "I have a lot of feelings for you, Cas. I need you. So, don't you dare question whether or not I want you around. I thought that I was making my feelings pretty clear. You're the fucking enigma with all your worry and doubt talk."

Cas got up and stood in front of him, shading him from the sunlight. "We need to head back." He reached down and pulled Dean up from the bench. It seemed like an excuse for contact. They walked back close to each other. Occasionally, Cas' fingers would flare out and brush Dean's. Dean smiled at him. "We're on the same page, I think." They turned from the beach up to the street to walk back on the sidewalk. There were vendors selling touristy things, bright shirts and palm tree trinkets. "I need you too."

* * *

Charlie showed up late that night. Dean went to the airport to greet her. She practically skipped up to him the moment that she saw him at the gate. The air was muggy and too hot, but she looked fresh and light. Her hair was long and curled just a little into waves.

"There's my boy. You look good, Dean." She swung her arms up around his shoulders.

"I was just thinking the same thing about you. Just gorgeous." She let him go when he said that.

She gave him a playful shoulder slug. "You shameless flirt. How many ladies have you used that line on down here?"

"Just my best girl. Just you, goober. Now come on and tell me about all of the jobs you got lined up for me for when I get home."

The walked out together arm in arm. Dean marveled yet again at the easy companionship that they always seemed to share. She felt safe and comfortable. She talked about some scripts that had come her way and money matters. Dean started to zone out when she started talking about the money stuff.

They pulled up to the hotel and Dean paid the cab driver. They headed inside and Dean caught sight of Cas and Meg over at the hotel bar. "Hey, Charlie, you want to meet some of my people?"

"Your people? I didn't know that you had people, Dean. Thought that you were a lone wolf." She laughed at his expression.

"I'll have you know that I am a very friendly guy, perfectly capable of making friends everywhere I go." He laughed too though as he slipped a hand to her back and guided her to the bar. Cas and Meg watched them as they strolled over. "Hey, Cas, Meg. This is Charlie. Charlie these are my people." Dean smiled at each of them.

"Oh, really we get a title. How nice of you Dean." Meg laughed at him and reached out a hand to Charlie. "Nice to meet you. Dean has told us a lot about you. In fact, he was starting to sound downright obsessive."

"Now, Dean what have I said about lying?" Charlie turned to Dean then with a playful smirk. Then Cas reached out to her and they shook hands. "I've heard a lot about you, Cas. Nice to finally put a face with the name." She smiled at him. Dean had spoken of Cas pretty much every time that he and Charlie had been on the phone together. He thought back over the conversations and realized that he had maybe shared a bit too much without realizing it at the time.

"You're just as lovely as Dean described you." Cas smiled warm and genuine.

"Well, geesh, you all are just all full of compliments. Remind me to fly out to Mexico more often. Now, get this lady a drink and tell me all about this film that you all are making. Spare no details. I particularly want to hear about what it has been like working with Zachariah." She took a seat next to Cas and Dean planted himself on the other side of her. Across the table was Meg.

They all fell into an easy mix of banter and storytelling. Dean put back a couple of beers then stopped when he caught Cas' eye. "So, Cas might need representation when we get back to the states. Are you thinking that you might be able to add another client to your list?"

"Oh, you don't have an agent? That is something that we need to remedy right away. Who looked over your contracts?" Charlie looked concerned.

"I would have sent them to you," Dean said, "but you were out of the country and seemed overwhelmed. I sent them to Sam though, and he used his lawyer vision on them before Cas signed anything."

"Well, that is marginally comforting. Next time bug me. I'm never too busy. Seriously, Dean. Cas could have lost so much money. Probably did. Your brother isn't exactly in the business you know." Charlie tossed back the last of her drink and waved over for another. "So, in short, I would be happy to take you on if you want me to represent you." She gave Cas' arm a little tap.

"Thank you. Do we need to do anything official to seal the deal?"

"Oh, the blood of your firstborn son and an annual ritualistic sacrifice, but we can iron out the specifics when we get back to the states." She smiled at him.

"Dean was right; you are weird." They all laughed a little.

"So, it wasn't all compliments behind my back then." Dean leaned over and planted a chaste little kiss on her cheek.

"Only, weird in the most endearing sense of the word," Dean looked positively happy.

Meg looked from Dean to Meg to Cas. She put a hand on Cas and smiled. "You two seem like you have quite the bond. How long have you known each other?"

"I don't know. Has it been two years now?" Charlie raised an eyebrow with the question as she turned to Dean.

"Gotta be like two years. Seems like I've known you forever though. You were the sister I never had."

"Sister from another mister." She chuckled. Then she turned to Meg. "So how long have you and Cas been seeing each other?"

"Oh, Cas and I." She stopped talking and looked at Cas. Dean could see her hoping for a little help.

Cas spoke up for her. "Meg and I met on this set. She has been my wingman, uh, wingwoman since nearly day one."

"Wingwoman? That sort of implies that you two aren't a thing." Charlie let her eyes move from one to the other.

Dean spoke up then. He leaned in close to her when he spoke. "So, Charlie, have you ever heard of a unicorn?" She turned to Dean then, a smile kicking up from the side of her lip.

"Yes, Dean Winchester. I just didn't realize that you would have a good reason to know about them. You got something you need to tell me?" Now the smile was fully emblazoned on her face.

"Well, Meg is Cas' unicorn." Dean reached over and gave Meg's hand a little squeeze then released her.

"Why ever would Cas need that?" Charlie was just playing with him now.

Cas spoke up then, "Well, turns out that maybe Dean might need one too if you are looking for another role to play in his life." With those words Charlie leaned over and planted a light kiss on Cas' cheek.

"That sounds like something I would be willing to do." Dean beamed at her. "Sounds to me like we have a lot to talk about tonight Romeo. I'm going to have them put me in your room. Might as well start the rumors off right away." She pushed her chair back from the table. "So, we'll stay up late and braid each other's hair and you'll tell me all about the backstory here." She got up then. "Hope you all don't mind, but I need to actually crash for a bit. Sorry to bring this party to an early halt, but if I'm going to hear Dean's story, we need to turn in."

She hugged each of them in turn. She squeezed Meg's ass when she hugged her. Meg jumped a little with the contact. "What was that?"

"Just checking." Charlie gave her a slightly lascivious look then turned to walk out with Dean. She turned back. "Later bitches."

"Think she might be a little drunk." Dean said by way of an apology.

"She's great." Cas reached out and ran his hand up Dean's arm a little. "See you tomorrow. One more day."

"Yeah, one more day." Dean sounded a little wistful already. Then he turned and followed Charlie out of the bar.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec. You can also find me on tumblr as spearywritesstuff.**

**AN: I think that this is going to be a little longer than I had originally planned. I wrote the last chapter, but there is plenty of middle that still needs to happen. I am glad that you are enjoying this. Thanks 1hotpepper for the enthusiasm. Thanks Catrimc for all the comments. I was thinking a little of Rock Hudson when I was writing this, so yay. I also wanted a Benny fic, because he kept showing up lately on tumblr and I was feeling nostalgic. I also wanted a tough Cas, because he is so fun when he is confident. Thanks for the comments Igniting. I had missed your always kind words while you were traveling. It is sad that the world is still so full of hate. I'm sorry about the feelings of powerlessness that you have felt. There is always hope though, that the world will get better, because there are a great many people that care. Lastly, Mummabro hearts back at ya.**

**Until the next update (whenever that is). I really need to get to writing the next chapter of Dean the Dangerous. I've only cobbled together 400 words of the next chapter and I am worried about getting it done on time. Yikes. Wish me luck. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean stopped telling the story rather abruptly. Benny stared at him, but did not say a word. He just waited for Dean to continue. "What do you say, we take a break and eat for a bit?" Dean said. He got up and reached down for Benny. They had been sitting on the floor the whole time.

"I think my legs might have stopped working," Benny said.

Dean pulled with a bit of force, and Benny practically fell upward into Dean's arms. "Shit. Didn't mean to pull you so hard."

"Like I said, I don't think that my legs are working." Benny stepped back and shook his legs a little to get the blood flowing. Dean walked past him to the door and Benny followed. Somehow the cook knew to have food out in the sun room without even asking.

"I swear, it is like I live with psychics. My cook always knows when to have the food out and my housekeeper only cleans when no one is looking. Come to think of it, maybe they aren't psychics. Maybe they are ghosts." They both chuckled a little at the silly notion. They sat down and immediately dug into the cheeseburgers and fries. "Can't complain about this meal."

"It does taste good. I mean really good." Benny said around a mouthful. "I might actually be starving. I forgot to really eat much this morning. I kept thinking that I would be leaving soon."

"Sorry about that. I am not easy to be around sometimes." Dean gave a little shrug.

"No harm. I am not so easy to be around either. I appreciate the trust that you've given me though. I don't know what I did to earn it, but thanks." Benny reached across the table and gave Dean a pat on the arm.

"You are the first person besides Charlie that I felt like I could trust. I don't know why either. You are everything that I shouldn't trust."

"Your story is certainly more interesting now that you trust me. I mean, it was interesting before, but it felt scripted. This feels real. I can't wait to hear about life back at home. I even want to hear more about Lisa and that whole thing." Benny sounded like he was a little too enthusiastic. Dean felt a little weird about it. Benny must have been able to tell. He looked at Dean and said, "Oh, um, I'm sorry. I just realized that I was not talking about characters. I read a lot, and sometimes I mix my fiction and my nonfiction. I think that I just did that in my head and then had the misfortune of speaking in the middle of it. Sorry."

Dean looked at him and said, "Benny, I didn't think that you were strange before, but I certainly do now. That was the weirdest bit of verbal vomit anyone has ever spewed around me." They both laughed then.

"Well, you want to tell me about being home?"

"I can't say that it will be all that exciting. I mean, do you really just want to hear about a couple of dudes passing the time with their so-called girlfriends?"

"I guess that I kinda do." Benny smiled over at Dean and then poured himself some ice tea from a pitcher that was sitting between them.

"Well, as long as you aren't expecting too much excitement. I mostly just passed the time. Our lives were pretty normal, by and large." Dean popped a fry in his mouth and chewed it lazily.

"I'm ready to hear it anyway. Tell me this tale of absolute normalcy." Benny stretched out in his seat and Dean leaned back and began another chapter in his life story.

* * *

Time passed as it is prone to do. They had all parted ways at the airport. It had felt awful. Dean had thought that the world around him had felt hollow. All communication with him seemed to be coming through an overly long, echoey tunnel. He thought that everyone could hear the steady drum beat of his heart. He did not want to go home alone, but they had all talked about the necessity of doing just that. Charlie sent a bunch of scripts to his house with a note that read, _for passing the time. _Dean read through the scripts in his apartment, looking for the one that he could tolerate, or better yet, feel inspired by. None of them were particularly great.

Dean was struggling. He felt like the days were dragging. He had not spoken with Cas enough, and the few conversations that he had with him, were short and too impersonal. He had felt like he had lost some of the connection since returning home. Charlie was around, but not enough. Buzz about the movie was starting to circulate. It was too early yet for anyone to even really know much about it. The first trailers wouldn't be out for another month or two. The buzz was still out there though. Charlie suggested that they take advantage of it. So, they went out to very public places. They had been photographed a number of times, and the tabloids were enjoying the new IT couple. Dean had not realized that he had become anything worth photographing, but clearly he would have to readjust his world view.

The phone rang in the corner, shaking him from his thoughts. He picked it up. "Hello."

"Dean, you up for dinner tonight?" Charlie's voice was chipper and partially muted by background conversations.

"I could be. Where are you? It's loud." Dean raised his voice a little.

"Oh, I'm at a convention. Don't ask. I'll pick you up around, say 6:30. Dress nice."

"I'm always dressed nicely." Dean donned a tone of hurt with his reply.

"Yes, you are a regular pile of gorgeous. Now, wear a suit. I'm classing us up tonight."

"Is there an occasion that I should be aware of? Is it our anniversary or something?" He joked.

"No, silly. We've only been dating for a few months. I reckon our anniversary is going to be on August 2nd. Sound good to you?"

"Sure. I'll get you the best flowers." Dean laughed at her a little.

"Nah, you will be quite wealthy by then. I think that you will get me some fine jewels or somesuch thing." She laughed back at him. "So, 6:30, gorgeous."

"See you then." Dean hung up and couldn't help but smile at the situation. She was easy to talk with and just be himself around. He wished that everyone could be like this, but that was not the world that he lived within. He wandered back to his room. The apartment was nice enough, although small. He remembered talking with Cas about how much he wanted to move. They had even made slight plans to look into desert real estate. _I need to see him._ It had been hard to carve out time to just talk to each other because Cas came home to a strange scenario. The studio decided that they needed to spend time building up the Cas Novak brand. He was too unknown for the film that he was going to be in. They got their marketing team together and decided on some carefully arranged photo-ops and interviews. Consequently, the press and the tabloids had eaten it up. Cas was featured in _People_ as an actor to watch for.

The biggest break was getting an interview on _The Tonight Show_. Dean was a little envious but proud too at the same time. It had aired the night before, and he had carved out time in his evening to just sit and stare at his screen. Cas looked good in his white button-up with the thin blue tie. Cas' dark slacks were a tad too tight, and Dean found himself thinking of valid reasons to fly out to New York. The interview went well. One moment stood out in particular for Dean. Cas had been asked about the most memorable time that he had on the set, and Cas described the night he had 'fallen in love with Meg' during a moonlit stroll. Dean leaned into the television taking it in.

Cas lowered his voice into his low, gravelly tone. The audience was eating it up, if the collective ahhs were any indication. Tales of on-set romances were always good for the fans. Dean imagined that Cas was gaining many fans with each word. Then he realized that the story was quite familiar and also not accurate. Cas said, "I remember taking her hand and walking along the beach. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. I wanted to kiss her. I couldn't though. I thought somehow, that she would reject it. I don't know why, in hindsight. I mean she had sent out all the signals, but I never have been that confident.'" _Liar._ Dean thought. "'Anyway, I remember sitting next to her in the sand and pouring little handfuls of sand on her feet then her hands. When I finally got up enough nerve to kiss her, I regretted wasting any time that had been spent not kissing her. It was then that I knew that I loved her, and that it would be a feeling that would never diminish.'" Cas turned to the camera then and said, "'I love you. I'll see you tomorrow.'"

Dean practically melted back into his couch. _He just said that he loves me on national television. Well, not me, but so me. God, Cas, come home tonight._ He had thought. And time had passed. He tried calling him, but could only leave a message. Cas was all tied up apparently. His message was simple and carried with it no tell-tale emotions. It was just a 'saw your interview; it was great' kind of statement. He counted the minutes since the interview, more like counted down. He knew that they had to be careful, but he was willing to spend a fair amount of time coming up with solutions to this separation.

He did what he could, though, to pass the time. He read some scripts and when 6:00 finally drew near, he decided to get dressed. The last script that he read had promise, he thought. It was another action piece, that had been picked up by a promising young director, a guy named Gabriel, no last name. He had been interviewed before, and had said that he shed his last name when his father had decided not to be in his life anymore. If anyone tried to call him by the name or if it was used in print, he culled them from his life. He would not reference their magazines or the interviewer further. Dean thought that it was eccentric, but he kind of understood too. He wondered if it would be like working with Zachariah, trading one eccentric for another.

The story was what got him. It seemed to be more than the typical action piece. This one had some dramatic elements. There was a father-son plotline that spoke to him a little. There did not seem to be a good part for Cas, but he wasn't supposed to consider that. He set it on his nightstand to peruse later. He went to his closet and rummaged through the hanging suits, looking for something that he thought would meet with Charlie's approval. He settled on a tan on white suit, not his best, but good enough.

Charlie's patterned knock at his front door had become familiar. He wandered out to let her in. He opened the door to find her looking quite stunning in her red pants suit. "Wow, you look hot, Charlie."

"I know, huh. I think this might be my color." She did a little twirl. "So, come on. We have reservations." She reached out and pulled him along. Dean shrugged her off briefly though to lock up. They drove off to the restaurant with Charlie chattering away about the interview that Cas had done and the scripts that she had been combing. Dean just smiled away at all of the information. She made him happy just in her own enthusiasm.

"So, you liked Cas' interview?" Dean asked when he could get a word in edgewise.

"Yeah, didn't you? I would think that you were quite the fan of said interview." Charlie winked over at him from the driver's seat.

"Well, I can't say that I like hearing him declare his love for Meg, but…"

She interrupted him, "As if that was about Meg."

"Yeah, I know." Dean smiled. She smiled back at him.

"It's nice to be loved, huh?"

"I think so." They drove on, each in their own thoughts. Dean's mind swirling around how many more hours it would take for Cas to get back to California. _He might already be back._ "Hey, Charlie, when does Cas get back?"

"Tonight." She answered quickly.

"I know that, but what time?" Charlie pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant. They got out of the car and she rounded to his side, tucking her arm in his as they walked to the entrance. There were cameramen following them, clicking away.

"So, I reserved us a private booth upstairs. Thought that you might want to celebrate." Charlie smiled up at him.

"You didn't answer my question." Dean pressed a kiss to her head as the cameras clicked away. He stretched out his arm around her, pulling her to him more, shielding her from the cameras. They entered the restaurant and were greeted by the quiet as the door closed behind them.

"Reservation for Bradbury-Winchester," Charlie said.

"So, we are a hyphenate now."

"Yeah, all the cool kids are doing it." The host pulled two menus and directed them to follow. They wound through the restaurant and up a small staircase at the back of the place. The walls were covered in long hanging tapestries. It gave the place an old world charm. The large room upstairs had several doors branching off of it. The host took them to a far door, reached out and opened it.

"Your waiter will be, Marc." The host gestured for them to enter, then followed them in. Dean stood in the doorway in shock though, for the room was not empty. Seated across from each other at the table, were Meg and Cas.

"What? When did you get home?" Dean stepped past the host. Charlie reached out to Dean and pulled him into a hug.

"Surprise. I wanted us to have a quiet night out with our friends, and Cas and Meg were too exhausted from the flight to say no, so here we are." Charlie spoke rapidly. Dean saw that she was putting on a bit of a show for the host. She pushed him to the seat next to Cas. _Thank God._ He thought. She took the seat across from him.

The host handed them their menus and then departed. As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Cas threw himself at Dean's mouth. Dean clutched at him in a quiet bit of desperation. He did not want to let him go. He wondered if they could justify going back to his apartment right now. "Ahem." Charlie cleared her throat. They parted. "You need to get yourselves in check here. The waiter shouldn't be getting an eyeful of that."

Meg laughed and added to Charlie's assessment, "Besides, Cas and I are like America's sweethearts, you know. Can't have Dean-o here becoming a happy homewrecker."

Dean looked over at Meg then, "Good to see you too, Meg." He turned back to Cas, "God, I missed you. Tell me you get to stay a while."

"I get to stay a while."

"I can't tell if you are serious."

Cas laughed and pecked a kiss onto his cheek saying, "I'm always serious where you're concerned." He squeezed Dean's hand then released it when the door started to open.

The waiter came in and spoke for too long. Dean heard none of it. He was doing his best to not focus on Cas right next to him. He stared down at his menu while the waiter spoke. He could feel Cas' knee pressing against his under the table. Cas was moving a little at his side, like he couldn't stay still. Dean moved his leg in front of Cas', tangling them up a little under the table. Charlie cleared her throat again, and Dean looked up. "Sorry. Did I miss something?"

"Want me to order for you, sweety?" Charlie beamed a smile at him.

"If it involves steak then yes." Dean beamed back.

"He'll have a filet, medium-rare, baked potato, and a bottle of the Merlot." She pointed at the wine menu to indicate her selection. "Thank you." The waiter slipped out and within minutes the sommelier came in with their wine. Thankfully, he did not stay to talk it up.

"When did you get home?" Dean asked again, since no one seemed willing to answer him, ever.

"Couple hours ago. I wanted to call you, but Charlie said that it would spoil the surprise." Dean shot a glare at Charlie then.

"Hey, you are happy. Plus, I was doing a good thing."

Dean smiled at her then. "Sorry, it has just been a rough couple a weeks." He turned back to Cas. I don't think that you should drive home tonight. I think that it will be too far. You can just crash at my place and go home tomorrow, or never." Dean leaned back over to him and they were kissing again. This time Meg cleared her throat.

"You have a pull-out couch for me?" Dean looked over at Meg and cocked his head to the side in question. "Well?"

"Why?"

"Well, for now, where Cas goes, I go. He may be your boyfriend first, but he kinda has to look like he's mine." She reached over and gave his hand a little squeeze. "Right, sweety."

Cas laughed at her then, "Of course Meggy-pie." They laughed together.

"I think I might be sick." Dean turned to Charlie. "Let's never get like that okay."

"Not in a million years." Charlie reached over to Meg though, "Let's go get freshened up."

"Girl bathroom trip?" Meg got up along with Charlie.

"Yep. We'll give them a couple of minutes alone." They stepped to the door and Charlie turned back. "Mind you I said a couple of minutes. Don't go crazy. You never know how long the waiter will wait between visits." They left then and Dean stared at Cas.

"So?"

"What?"

"You are coming home with me, right?" Dean whispered.

Cas' hand slipped over onto Dean's leg. "Of course. Meg will sleep on the couch. It better be comfortable for her though. Only the best for my fake girlfriend."

Dean slipped a kiss onto his cheek then trailed his way down to his jaw, then throat. "I enjoyed your interview."

"Did you?" Cas' voice was low and gravelly. Dean felt himself losing control. He ran his hands up his chest.

"I did. I liked your story."

"Did you? What part did you like the most." Cas' voice hitched up a bit at the end when Dean's hand moved up past his thigh.

"I liked the story about how you fell in love with Meg. That part was moving." He wanted to run his hands up under his shirt, but that would be too hard to cover up if the waiter walked in.

Cas slipped away from Dean and leaned back. "I meant it."

Dean stared at him. He was confused. "What do you mean, you meant it?"

Cas leaned back to him again, lips ghosting his ear. "When I sat with you on the beach, pouring sand over your fingers, I knew right then that I was in love with you."

"God, Cas. No dessert. Eat dinner like you're starving. We need to get home." The door opened again and the girls slipped in. The waiter followed not long after. Dean could feel Cas' hand through his pants as he rubbed his thumb back and forth along the seam at the edge of his thigh. When the waiter returned after their meals to offer dessert, both Dean and Cas said a synchronized no. The girls laughed. The night was long, but the time at the restaurant was thankfully not.

* * *

"So, you managed to find ways to see each other even after you both got home. I imagine that it wasn't easy though." Benny got up and wandered over to the window.

"No, it was rough when either of us had to go off on a shoot. I took the job on _The Executioner's Song._ That was shot mostly in Canada. I stayed in a little town called Squamish. Most people have never heard of it."

Benny nodded his encouragement as he came back to the table. "Sounds like a veritable paradise with a name like that."

"Uh, no. It wasn't a bad place mind you, but it was cold and well, rather isolated. I think the town had maybe three hundred people in it. Cas got cast in _The Fallen._ He was pretty happy about it. We were both making the best of a difficult situation. It isn't easy starting a relationship with someone that is a million miles away. Plus, each of our directors kept us so busy that we hardly had any time to communicate. We called each other and talked each other to sleep, but it was not the same as just seeing each other." Dean stretched out and said, "You want to go back to the library?"

"Sure. Might be more comfortable to stretch out on the couch." Benny got up. Dean noticed that he was actually rather attractive. It was odd to notice it only now. He supposed that it was something that he just hadn't allowed himself to notice in others for quite some time. Everyone was always compared to Cas and found lacking. Benny stood there though with his arms wide and muscular, a thin breath of stubble on his face, and a stance that was commanding and powerful. If he let himself think about it long enough, he would compare him to Cas. Instead, he got up and shook his head as he strolled down the hall to the library with Benny at his side.

Dean sat down on one end of the couch and Benny sat on the other, but with his legs stretched out toward Dean and his back to the side. "I got a break from filming to go do promo work on _The Righteous Man, _and Cas got the same deal. We made the most of the time. I had Charlie set up the hotel rooms for us, and she always managed to secure adjoining rooms. I would do an interview; Cas would do an interview; and at night we would find time for each other."

"No one ever figured it out?" Benny played with the fringe on the pillow at the back of the couch.

"Oh, you're thinking of Denver, aren't you?" Dean shifted about a bit in his seat.

"Well, it was the thing that first got me thinking that there was more to the two of you than most people were seeing." Benny winked over at Dean then.

"Yeah, Cas fucked up. We had gone out to a bar. We were just doing a little interview thing before heading back to L.A. It should have been nothing, ya know, a layover interview. But Cas and I went out drinking beforehand. We got to the studio, and he was three sheets to the wind. I didn't understand why he had gotten so drunk. I didn't understand how much going home was fucking him up."

"What do you mean?" Benny's eyes looked on him with sympathy.

"He knew that going home meant that each of us would be going back to our very separate sets in very separate parts of the world. I put on a good face during it all, but Cas was not doing so well. Plus, the Lisa stuff came out not long after Denver and that really hurt."

"I can only imagine."

Dean pulled his legs up onto the couch then, too. He turned to Benny and said, "If I had even had a clue about how to fix things back then, I would have. I was clueless. So, when Cas and I stumbled into the studio and he slurred his way through the interview, I just went with it. He kept saying that he loved me, and that I was the best actor on God's green earth. I said some nice stuff about him, but mostly I just rolled my eyes like _Hey America, pardon my drunk friend here._ Charlie went into overdrive on that one. Cas had to start declaring his love for literally every celebrity that he encountered. It became a running joke and it seemed to water down the impact of his earlier declarations."

"No one seemed to be the wiser," Benny offered.

"Yeah, thank goodness. We would have sunk two major motion pictures with those declarations." Dean reached over and picked up one of the couch pillows and held it to his chest. "I wish that it didn't need to be that way. It was unfair to him. He deserved to be free to say what he felt however he felt it."

"We all deserve to have that freedom, and maybe someday we'll get that." Benny pulled his legs up and scooted closer. "Would you tell me about the stuff with Lisa?"

"I really don't want this to go out to the masses. I mean this even more than anything else."

"I think that you trust me, Dean. You've already told me so much."

"Yeah, I just really need to protect them. Lisa and Ben both deserve that." Benny reached over then and touched Dean's hand. It was a light stroke of assurance.

"I promise to keep this story for myself and no one else. Trust me, Dean." He left his hand on Dean's.

"Okay." Dean looked steadily at him and told him about Lisa.

* * *

It was winter and Canada was colder than a witches' tit, as his father would have said, if he had experienced this place. Dean shuffled through the knee deep snow, cursing as he went. Gabriel was happy and hollering out at various crew members to set up lighting and such. Dean felt the comforting presence of Meg at his side. Gabriel had hired her at Dean's suggestion when everything was first being arranged. "Remind me to thank you for this sweet gig." Meg's tone was harsh as she slogged along beside him.

We're almost to the trailer. If we are lucky, craft services will have cocoa for you." Dean wrapped an affectionate arm around her as they plodded forward. Up ahead, he saw one of Gabriel's assistants making his way toward him.

"Mr. Winchester." He called out as he nearly slipped into the snow bank.

"Dean moved forward a little faster in a desire to help. "Yeah."

"You got some legal stuff that showed up. I signed for it." The assistant looked no more than 18 and had a mess of straw colored hair. He reminded Dean of a younger Sam, his brother. He kept himself from ruffling up his hair as he would have done to his brother. Instead, he just took the envelop and offered up some thanks.

"What is it?" Meg leaned over and read past his shoulder. "From San Francisco."

"Guess I better open it and find out." He tore into it and read through the letter. At first he was confused. It was from Lisa, sort of. She was trying to amend a birth certificate that had his name on it.

"What the hell is that, Dean?"

"I don't know. Why would my name be on a birth certificate for anything with Lisa? Dean stood still in the snow, feeling the cold slush seeping into his pants. He started moving swiftly again toward the trailer. When he got there, he burst into the place and tossed the letter onto the dinette.

"Is she trying to say that you have a kid?" Meg scooped up the letter and read it carefully.

"I don't get this." Dean was pacing.

"Dean, could she have gotten pregnant when you were together?"

"I used condoms, so no." Dean was still pacing while he spoke.

"Well, the timing seems kind of right. I mean, it could be possible if you had not been careful. It says here that the baby is just a couple of months old. Are you sure that you used a condom every time?" Meg walked over to him and stopped his pacing. "Dean look at me. Did you use one every time?"

"I don't know. I thought so. I got pretty drunk a few times, and I might have messed up. I don't know, okay." Dean pulled away from her and slammed his fist into the wall behind him. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

"Well, not beating up the trailer might be a start." She reached out to him again. "You need to call the number in the letter. Looks like that might be the place to start. And you might want to get an attorney. Looks like they need to hear from you." She turned to the door. "I'll give you some space to sort out your feelings. Don't forget to call Cas and tell him. No sense in letting him hear it first on the morning news."

"What am I supposed to say to him? Hey, Cas, guess who might have a kid?" Dean slipped into the chair near the dinette.

Meg stooped down in front of him and pressed her hands to his cheeks. "Dean, he loves you. It will be awful, then it will be okay. You have to suck it up, though. Tell him." She gave him a little pat then turned and headed out the door.

Dean replayed the time that he had spent with Lisa and could not recall too many specifics. He had been fully committed to drunkenness for the better part of their time together. Cas had saved him from that at least. He picked up the phone and looked at the number on the letter, but he instead decided to call Cas.

* * *

"Hello." The voice should have been comfort, but instead Dean fell apart a little.

"Cas." Dean choked out.

"Dean, are you okay?" The worry was evident in his voice.

"I have to tell you something. It's major. You won't be happy."

"Dean, you are freaking me out. Are you okay?" Cas sounded desperate. Dean didn't know how to start, so he blurted it all out at once.

"Lisa had a kid. It is maybe mine." There was silence. He could hear Cas breathing, so he knew that he was still there. "Say something. I'm freaking out here."

Cas took a deep breath, then he said, "I guess that changes things for us quite a bit, huh?"

"I don't know." That wasn't the answer that he wanted to give. He wanted to say an emphatic, no, but how could he. A kid does change everything.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Cas sounded cold, like he was considering every syllable of every word before it fell from his lips.

"Tell me what to do. I don't know what to do." Dean just sounded desperate.

"I don't know what you are supposed to do, Dean. Usually men that find themselves in these situations also find themselves married within a short matter of time. How did you find out about it?" Cas still sounded too serious, too detached.

"I'm not getting married. I'm with you." He was irritated.

"We'll see." Cas sounded too quiet now.

"I meant it, Cas. I only just heard about it. I just…" Dean petered out, not sure what to say anymore.

"How did she tell you?"

"I got a legal notice in the mail."

"She wants child support or something?"

Dean was doing his best to not freak out. Cas' calmness was not helping him like it should. "No, the letter said that she was trying to amend the birth certificate. I don't know what that means, but I don't think that she was asking for money. Maybe it is just a way of providing information about the kid."

"That's not what amend means. It means change. She is trying to change a birth certificate from what it once was. Did it say what the change was?"

"I don't know. I don't understand it. Maybe Sam can look at it." Dean thought that maybe he could just focus on that. He added, "Tell me we are still okay."

"This is far from okay. I think that I need to process this a little and then talk to you." Cas spoke in a flat, tone. He was not cold, but he was not comforting either.

"Okay, Cas. You do that. Call me when you think you can." They hung up like that, as though the months of intimacy had fallen away. _I need you; don't leave me._

* * *

He flew to San Francisco and scheduled an appointment with the lawyer. Sam told him that he would meet him there, but when he arrived, Sam wasn't there. He found a payphone and called his office back in L.A. The secretary told him that Sam was still at the office. She transferred his call. "Hey, Dean. I'm sorry. I got held up in court today and missed the flight. I can make the next one though."

"That won't help. My meeting is in an hour."

"See if you can reschedule. I'm really sorry. It was supposed to be an easy case. I should know better; it's never easy." Sam sounded upset.

"I'll see if I can reschedule when I get there and then I'll give you a call. Don't worry about it. Maybe I can even work this out without my baby brother riding shotgun." Dean tried to sound like he was feeling laid back when, in fact, he was feeling very tense. They hung up after that, agreeing to call each other later.

Dean made his way out of the airport to the pick-up area. There were some cabs parked up along the curb. Dean hefted his bag up onto his shoulder and walked over to one. He passed the driver a paper that had the address. It was some office highrise on Market.

He felt unprepared for the interactions that he experienced there. The high ceilinged room felt too large. He sat in the lush chair and looked toward the doors to the office that he assumed he would be taken into at some point. Eventually, the door opened and a tall man with salt and pepper hair and well-chiseled cheeks came out to him. He strode up with confidence and extended a hand. "Mr. Winchester. A pleasure to meet you in person." Dean stood up and shook his hand. "My name is Len Cuse. I represent Lisa Braeden. Let's go into my office here to go over the paperwork." Dean followed him to the door. As they entered Len added, "I thought that we were going to be joined by your attorney."

"Yeah, he was held up. He told me that I should reschedule, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to see what you all wanted." Dean's eyes scanned the room and found Lisa sitting off to the side with an infant in her arms. Dean walked over to her. "Hello, Lisa. Long time no see." He took a seat in front of her.

"Hello, Dean. I'm sorry about this. I didn't mean for this." She looked down and then around the room.

"Could I see him?" Dean felt all sorts of conflicting emotions. He never saw himself as a father, but in this moment he was feeling a strange new pull toward parenthood that he had never expected. She pulled back the blanket a bit and leaned toward him, allowing him a more complete vision of the tiny creature. "He's beautiful, Lisa, just beautiful."

Len walked over and sat across from them. "So, I assume that everyone understands why we are all here."

"We're here because I apparently have a kid that I didn't know about." Dean offered up as he looked from the child to Len, then back to Lisa.

Lisa raised an eyebrow of confusion. "No, that's not why we are here. We are here because I made a mistake, and I need to rectify it."

"Come again." Dean felt a tension building up in him.

"He's not your child."

"No way. Who else could be his dad." For some reason Dean did not want to believe it. He had already decided that this child was his.

"I put your name on the birth certificate, because it was easy. You aren't Ben's father though. I need to amend it so that his actual father has responsibility." She seemed to be having trouble looking at him though, and Dean was having a hard time accepting this.

"Look, Leese, I've done the math here. The timing totally works. We were together when this child was conceived. How can you say beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is not mine?"

"I just know, Dean. You always used a condom. Walter and I were less careful." Lisa looked a bit upset, but she kept her voice low, seemingly to keep from disturbing the sleeping child.

"Who is this Walter character? I don't remember any Walter in Mazatlan?"

"Walter Dixon wrote the script for _Righteous Man_. You should know him." Lisa huffed out in a bit of exasperation. Dean did remember him now. He didn't have much of an impression of him though.

"Is he acknowledging the baby?" Dean wasn't sure why it mattered, but he didn't want to let this go if things were too messy.

"He will. I just need to make sure that the honest information is on the birth certificate. Please just sign the form, Dean. Don't make this any harder for me." She practically pleaded. Dean suddenly realized that he was fighting for something that he should not be fighting over.

"Okay, Leese. You sure he's not mine?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm sure." She reached out then and put a hand on his arm, cradling the baby to her still with her other. "I'd be a fool not to choose you as a father if in fact you were one. We may not have parted well, but I still liked you." She nodded over to the papers, and Dean picked up a pen to sign them. After swooping his signature over the many lines of the document, he reached over to the paper that was sitting in the middle of the table. He ripped off a piece and wrote down his number.

He pressed the paper into her hand. "I want you to promise that you will call me if anything comes up, or if you need something for him."

"I'll be fine, Dean. He's not your responsibility." She stood then. Dean stood too.

"I know, but somehow, I think that maybe he is a little." He reached out to the kid and brushed his hand over his sleeping head. Sleep well little guy. He leaned over then and kissed Lisa on the cheek. "Good luck to you Lisa." Dean left then and did not know how to feel. It was as though he lost something that was never his and that he never knew that he had wanted.

* * *

He came back to his apartment to find Charlie there, waiting for him. "Hey, Dean." She got up and hugged him.

"Hey, Charlie." He didn't realize that he had been carrying so much emotion over the issue, but he felt himself crying a little into her shoulder. She held him and stroked little circles of affection into his back, and eventually, she pulled him over to the sofa to sit. "I don't know why I am so upset. I should be happy right now."

"Apparently, you wanted the kind of apple pie life that comes with being a father. Sometimes we lie to ourselves about the things that we want when we want them really badly. I think that maybe you didn't think this was a possibility for yourself, so you never let yourself imagine the possibility until this happened. Now it is all sorts of emotional turmoil up in your head." Charlie just kept holding him a little, even as they sat together on the sofa. He rested his head on her shoulder and let himself be comforted.

"Thanks, for understanding me." Dean mumbled into her shoulder.

"Of course, Dean." She slipped back from him a little and looked at his face. "I have other news to report." She reached up to his face and cupped his cheek. "Cas isn't coming home for a long while."

"What? Why? Is it because of this?"

"The shoot in Cairo got extended. He flew out there a couple of days ago thinking that it would be a quick deal. When they asked him to agree to an extension, he said yes. He told me that it would give you the space that you needed to figure things out with Lisa and fatherhood."

"I need to call him." Dean got up quickly and went to his phone. "What's his phone number out there?"

"He wouldn't give it to me. He said that I would just pass it on to you. He told me that he didn't want to get in the way of you doing the right thing." She got up then and pulled Dean back into a hug. "I'm sure that he'll be home soon. Don't worry. You'll get to clear this up with him soon enough.

* * *

The evening had seeped into the library. He had not realized how much time had passed while he had told his tale, but Dean eventually noticed it as he looked at Benny. Benny looked as sad as Dean had felt all those years ago. The evening shadows that fell on his face seemed to accentuate the emotions that he seemed to be feeling. He said, "I thought that you said that this was a tale of normalcy, Dean. This is not normal. It is every kind of depressing."

Dean gave him a half-hearted smile. "Sorry. It seemed normal to me."

"No, Dean. Most people don't experience your brand of drama. Plus, you forget that I know how long he stayed in Cairo." Benny reached out to Dean then and rested a hand on him. "I'm so sorry. It must have been hell."

"It was. Plus, I couldn't fly out there. I had to go back to the set in Canada, because if I didn't, I would be breaking my contract. I wasn't wealthy then, so that would have been pretty bad." Dean became quite conscious of Benny's hand that was still resting on his as he started running his thumb back and forth a little.

"You still haven't explained why you send her money."

"Walter was a dick. He didn't end up wanting to have much, if anything to do with the kid, despite the courts saying that he was responsible. Lisa was struggling financially. I heard about it through a colleague that cared way too much about gossip. Not long after I had signed the papers in San Francisco, the story leaked. The tabloids were all over it. 'Why Won't Dean Winchester Acknowledge His Love Child?'" Dean shifted about in his seat a little and Benny's hand fell away from him. "I felt horrible for Charlie. She didn't sign on for this. They called her the other woman and such. Like she broke up some sort of relationship between Lisa and I. Well, then there was Cas. He had heard about it all through the media. He took it hard and didn't reach out to me for any sort of explanation."

"How did he learn the truth?"

"That came about much later. After I found out about Lisa's difficulties, I just started sending her money. She and I talked about it, and she didn't want to accept any help from me. I was totally convincing though. I made her see just how much it would make me feel like a decent human being. It took some effort, but she eventually let me help."

"So, I take it that you had started getting money from the studio by then."

"Yeah, I received a preliminary check, and it was so much money. I guess that I needed to do something good with a bit of it."

Benny shifted back toward Dean a bit more. "Didn't you eventually go to Cas?"

"No. I was stupid. At first, all I wanted to do was rush off after him. Then, later, I just got kind of mad, like 'why isn't he talking with me, why isn't he here' and a bunch of other stuff. I just let myself get angry, because it was easier than being sad."

"So you didn't go to him?"

"No." Dean sounded sad. "We wasted so much time, time that I can't ever get back."

Benny's hand found its way back to him again. "But you got back to him, though. You two figured it out, right?"

"I thought that you knew our story a little." Dean tipped his head to the side.

"I do, but this bit isn't fitting with what I thought that I knew. I guess I pictured you flying out to Cairo or somesuch. I guess I figured that you would find him and sweep him up off his feet. I guess that I thought that you both loved each other too much to let this separation last." He squeezed Dean's hand then. "Please tell me the rest."

"Maybe tomorrow, Benny. I think that I am a little tapped out right now. I feel like this is all weighing me down." Dean started to get up, but Benny didn't let go of his hand.

"I don't know how I'll sleep with the not knowing." Benny looked up at him.

"I promise not to sleep in. Let me sleep, and I'll tell you the rest tomorrow." Benny nodded and Dean gave his hand a little squeeze. "I promise."

Benny let his hand go then and stood with him. "I'm holding you to it." Dean slipped past him, and, as he headed out of the room, he cast a glance back at Benny, and in his head he tried not to compare him to Cas.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: Thank you all for the comments and such. I appreciate that you all have been reading this. I'm sorry that this took a whole week to update. I'm not sure that my other fic is getting an update this week as I am dealing with personal stuff, and am not in the right mental head space for it right now. This one was luckily almost done, so you get this one, though. Hope you all enjoyed this installment.**


	7. Chapter 7

Dean crawled into bed and stared at the windows on the far end of his room. He was tired and not tired all at once. It had been a long day of sharing. He had not wanted to cut the sharing short, but somehow he knew that it was necessary, not for the reasons that one might imagine though. Past the window he could see the sky and a night full of stars. It was clear again, and tomorrow his driveway would be cleared too. The clearing of the driveway meant that the interview could end now. A small puff of smoke drifted past his window. He watched it dance and dissipate into the night, a spectre on the wind.

Dean slid his legs out of the bed and sat up. Another cloud of smoke wafted past. _Benny._ Dean got up and walked over to the window. He pushed open the glass door and walked out onto his veranda. He glanced over toward the other end of it. Benny had left his room for a smoke and was sitting on a chair on the veranda just outside of his door. Dean walked over and leaned on the back of another chair facing him. "Hello, again Dean." Benny took another drag off of the cigarette. "Thought that you were going to sleep."

"I am. I just saw that you were up, and…" Dean didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"Looks like the weather finally cleared up a bit." Benny's voice was low and soothing.

"Yeah. Still cold though." Dean raised his hands to his own arms and gave them a brisk rub. He was wearing a thin tee shirt over light pajama bottoms. It wasn't the best attire for being outdoors.

Benny stubbed out his cigarette and got up. "Guess your guy will clear the driveway tomorrow."

"Yeah, he likely will." Dean paused a moment. "I'm sorry I cut the story short. I didn't mean to make it unnecessarily dramatic."

"I didn't mind." Benny made a slight move closer to Dean and rested his hand on the back of the chair near Dean's own hand. He let out a little huff of air then added, "Actually, I'm lying. I totally minded. I minded a lot. Half the reason I'm out here smoking instead of sleeping is your damn story." He laughed, a little awkward sound that came out mostly as a snort.

Dean looked down a little sheepishly and moved to the side of the chair. "I know how much more of the story is left. I know how it ends, and I'm not sure I can share it."

Benny moved to face him more. "You shouldn't rush. I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to. I don't have anything else on my plate this week."

"What if it takes me longer than that?" It wasn't what he had really wanted to ask, but the question worked for him none the less.

"Then I will find myself driving back out here at every opportunity." Benny's hand drifted up to Dean's arm now. "I meant it when I said that you shouldn't rush."

Dean looked into Benny's eyes as he spoke and concentrated on both the look and also the feel of his hand, strong and steadying on him. "What if I drag the story out, and I never get to the end?"

Benny tipped his head to the side in a questioning move. "Why would you do that, Dean?"

Dean reached out to Benny and looped his hand around his waist. His fingers threaded through Benny's belt loop. He felt himself pulling just a little at Benny. Benny's other hand came up to Dean's cheek. His thumb brushed back and forth across Dean's jaw. "I never liked being alone. I always surround myself with people. For the last year though, I have been rather alone. You being here, reminded me how it felt to not be alone."

"What about Charlie?"

"That's different."

"Oh." Benny moved a little closer. Dean dipped his head down a little. Their breaths mingling in the cold desert night.

"I have a hard time letting people in. You let them in, and it doesn't last." Dean's words came out between them in a graveled whisper.

"Sometimes it does." Benny whispered back.

"No. It's that kind of thinking that drives in the knife. You start hoping and believing that it can be okay, and then it is always the same. Always with the _adios._" Dean didn't break his gaze with Benny while he spoke. His fingers moved a bit on Benny's side from his waistband to the exposed skin on his side. He felt Benny shiver a little with the touch.

"Maybe it isn't always like that. Maybe it doesn't always have to be _adios."_ Benny's fingers moved up to the back of Dean's head and threaded into his hair.

"It would be though. Nothing good ever stays." Dean felt sad when the words poured out of him.

Benny said in a quiet whisper, "I would stay." He leaned in then and pressed their lips together, softly. The gentleness of the move pulled Dean closer. He slipped his other hand around to Benny's back, holding him there. The kiss did not deepen. It was just a small series of little movements and the press of their bodies together. At one point Dean sucked on Benny's bottom lip a little, but the kiss did not go beyond that. They slowly parted. Dean stepped back behind the chair and Benny moved back toward his door. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, Benny." Dean smiled at the way that he seemed to stagger a little back to his room. _Guess I shook him up a little._ Dean walked back to his doors and returned to his bed. He laid there for a while and stared at the door. He could not fall asleep. He finally rolled over and faced the other side of the room, the other side of the bed. His face fell a little from the peace that it held a moment before. He reached out a hand to the emptiness. He closed his eyes and felt the spot that dipped in a little. He imagined it filling up. A body replacing the emptiness. "Cas." His voice whispered out on the cusp of sleep. He imagined his hand resting on a heartbeat, the steady drumming of life coursing along next to him.

He saw his eyes blue in the dark room, watching him while he was trying to sleep. He brushed his hand back and forth under the covers, feeling the coldness in the spot, imagining warmth, and flesh, and bones. _I still love you. _He just thought his words now. It was his nightly prayer, a thought that he hoped could span great distances. And as sleep fully overtook him, he thought it again and added, _I'm yours forever._

* * *

He woke to a quiet tapping at his windowed door. His eyes cracked open, and he rolled to face the sound. He could see Benny self-consciously standing on the other side with a coffee mug in hand. Dean oozed up and out of the bed, sleepiness still controlling his muscles. He stumbled over to the door and opened it. "Morning, Dean. I come bearing coffee. Have breakfast with me out here." Benny tipped his head in the direction of the veranda. Dean leaned out the door and looked toward Benny's room and saw that he had a full breakfast spread laid out on the outdoor table. "I had your cook set us up out here. It seemed like too beautiful a day to be inside."

"Hmm. Still waking up. Let me get my robe on, and I'll join you." Dean dipped back into the room and found his grey robe on the back of a chair. He shrugged into it and threw on some slippers. He plodded over to Benny, who was now seated at the little table..

"Hope you don't mind my doing this." Benny scooped some eggs onto his plate and then pushed a mug of coffee over to Dean.

"Not at all. It's a good day for eating outside." Dean lifted the mug of coffee to his lips and inhaled the rich aroma before taking the first sip. "Sleep okay?"

"Meh, good enough." Benny tossed a half smile Dean's way. "Spent too much time thinking, I reckon."

"Hmm." Dean hummed past the rim of the mug in a type of agreement. He had spent a fair amount of time thinking last night too. His focus had been a bit on the physical, Benny's eyes, blue and familiar, Benny's hands, strong and steady on his own arms and face. His thoughts had been an oddly churning sea last night. The past and present all mixed up in dreams. Cas and Benny one face, one body, one everything and then they were not. Benny took over at some point and Cas faded away. Dean had awoken from that moment with a start, body covered in sweat, staring off at the ceiling.

He had considered leaving his room to make the trek over to Benny's door. He had thought that it might be welcomed. He had thought that it might be just the thing to get him over his own sorrows. Dean thought all of these things, and then he realized that he just couldn't move toward any of that. It did not feel right somehow. He began eating his breakfast and casually glanced up at Benny while moving the first forkful of eggs to his mouth. Benny was watching him, not eating as he did so.

"Are you just going to watch me eat?" Dean mumbled around a mouthful.

"I am going to pick at this meal and stare you down until you finish the story." Benny smiled over at him. "I honestly don't know how I can eat anything with all the mess in my head. I keep trying to piece together how you two fixed things, and I can't seem to see it." Benny lifted his mug of coffee to his lips.

"Maybe we didn't," Dean offered with a sigh.

"No, you did, and I won't accept any other variation on that truth. You were with him again. Come on, Dean. Tell me the next bit." Benny sounded pretty desperate, and Dean felt kind of bad again about dragging the story out.

"I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean to make this torture for you. I've never told my story before, so I guess that I never really saw it as something that would move anyone. It is just the way that things were, ya know?"

"It is completely moving."

"So, my story really kept you up at night?" Dean asked as he buttered his toast.

"Among other things. I certainly didn't expect to be kissing you last night." Dean glanced up at Benny as he mentioned the kiss and then tried to suppress the grin that tugged at the side of his lip.

"These last couple of days have had many unexpected moments." Dean paused a beat then added, "Regrets?"

"Not a one." Benny took a bite of food from his plate then looked back at Dean. "Well, maybe one."

Dean felt a little uncomfortable about the idea that had bloomed in his head when Benny spoke. _Of course, he had a regret. Of course, this was too fast, too much. I'm way too much of a mess for him._ He chose to ask anyway. "What do you regret?"

"I should have convinced you to stay, or I should have followed you back to your room. Either way would have proved less torturous." He seemed to blush a little with the admission.

Dean felt the color rise in his own face. They both ducked into their food again, avoiding each other's glances. "I'm not sure how that would have gone. I think that the right call was made last night." Dean paused then added without looking up, "for now."

"Hmm." Benny reached over and picked up Dean's hand from off of the table and kissed the back of his fingers, softly. "Then you need to tell me more about you and Cas to get me through this." Dean looked up at him, and watched him as he seemed in no hurry to release Dean's hand. "Please."

"So, I guess the least torturous way to go, is to fast forward to the night of the premiere of _Righteous Man._ It was June, and the film had gotten so much hype that it was guaranteed to make a profit. The premiere was going to be a very well-publicized event. I was going to attend with Charlie on my arm. I hadn't seen Cas in months. He had stayed in Cairo longer than anticipated, and he made no attempt to get in touch with me or Charlie. He had likely seen all of the tabloids and wondered why I had been such a deadbeat, but he didn't come home and question me. He had thought that it would be for the best to maintain distance. I became a bitter, angry man. I had the film in Canada, but that had hardly been enough distraction." Dean tipped his eyes back to the sky and thought for a moment. "Actually, I should begin there, and not at the premiere. That place matters, and something that Gabriel said there made a difference. So, yeah, I'll tell you about that first." So Dean dove into his story, not in the summer, but back into the spring that felt like winter in that small part of the world.

* * *

Dean sat off to the side of the outdoor set, freezing his ass off. The snow was more slush than snow, and everyone was miserable. The winter weather had lasted longer than any of them had thought possible. Gabriel had worried that they would have to make artificial snow to finish out some of the scenes, but mother nature had done her part for them. While he stared down at his shaking hands, one of the assistants walked up to him with a blanket. Dean tried to wave him off. "Gabe told me to give you the blanket. He doesn't want you getting sick." The assistant held out the blanket again.

"Piss off. I don't need it." Dean waved it away again. He was tough to work with, he knew, but he just didn't care anymore. At least the cold allowed him to feel something that wasn't just anger or sorrow. It was also better than the awful numbness of plodding through empty, hollow days alone. Even Meg seemed to stop speaking with him. She had tried at first to be a comfort, but it went nowhere. He did not tell her the truth about Lisa's son. He was too angry about the situation to share anything about it with anyone. Charlie knew, and so did Sam. That was enough. So instead of talking with Meg, Dean was much more willing to isolate himself. He watched from a distance as the tabloids tore up Charlie. He watched from a distance as they tore up everything. He could publicly deny the child was his, but somehow, that felt like a bad solution. The kid would have it rough enough, having begun his life so publicly. Dean was not going to announce to the world anything that could make the child feel like he was an unwanted burden.

The assistant walked away with the blanket and not long after, Gabriel came over and slunk down into the space next to Dean. "Not the most comfortable seat." The wood slab that Dean was sitting on was worn down and a little splintery. It was also a bit wet with the melted snow. Dean turned to him with a ready retort about no one asking him to sit there, when he realized that this was his boss and that he should just shut-up.

"Yeah. You ready for me to film the scene?" He looked down at Gabriel's hands and noticed that he was holding the blanket that the assistant had tried to force on him before. Dean scowled.

"Not until you warm up. Your lips are blue. I can't film you like that. We'll likely hear the shaking in your lines."

"I'm not that cold." Gabriel handed him the blanket anyway. Dean took it and wrapped it around himself a little.

"What's eating you, Dean?" Gabriel looked at him while he asked. Dean tried to avoid the gaze.

"Nothing. I didn't mean to snap at the assistant, if that is what this is about." Dean couldn't seem to push aside the irritation in his voice. He was still bristling from the night before when he had been assaulted by paparazzi on his one random adventure into Vancouver. He had gone with some of the crew for a little break. It had been a mistake. He powered through though. _All that driving for all that torture. Never again._

"It's more than that. You seemed much happier when you first started filming with us, then you weren't. Is it the tabloid stuff?"

"It's uncomfortable." Dean didn't want to talk about it, but he couldn't think of a graceful exit.

"I can imagine. It must be hard for the people that care about you too." Dean looked at Gabriel and tried to assess his meaning. He added, "I talked with Meg a little. You two use to get along. Seems you have pushed her aside for a more solitary existence lately."

"She doesn't need to be mixed up in my mess."

"What about Charlie? Maybe you should call her and have her come out here?"

"Don't see why. I'm only going to be here for a week. That is, unless you have plans to extend this thing." Dean felt a little hopeful for a second. An extension would be welcomed. L.A. did not feel like home. He worried about going back to his apartment that had memories now tied up with Cas.

Gabriel began rubbing his hands together for warmth then raised them to his face, breathing steam into them. "I couldn't if I wanted to. You've got your premiere, and the studios said that you absolutely had to be available for that. Plus, I think that you need that. You know, you can't hide out from your problems here forever. Gotta face the music sometime."

"Hmm." Dean did not want to think about that. The premiere would be tough, to say the least. He got up then, but Gabriel pulled him back down to the seat. "What now?" Dean felt irritated again.

"Meg told me that she doesn't believe that the kid is yours."

"Meg should mind her own business."

"Maybe." They sat there for a bit before Gabriel continued. "Going back for the premiere might give you an opportunity to fix some of your mess. I don't get why you don't just tell the world to bugger off. Tell them the kid isn't yours or whatnot. It would save you a lot of grief."

"I don't want to do that."

"Why?"

"Imagine if you had to grow up with a bunch of people going out of their way to say how much they were not connected to you. Between me and his actual dad, that dick, he doesn't need anyone else saying that they don't want him." Dean looked away from Gabriel toward the set. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to anyone."

"Of course, Dean. You do know though, that it would just be you setting the record straight if you told the world that you were not the father. It wouldn't be a bad thing. It would be good for Charlie too wouldn't it? At least, that's what Meg seemed to think when she was hypothesizing." Gabriel watched Dean's face as it shifted and twisted into several emotions at once, irritation, sadness, then resignation.

"I already fucked that up beyond repair."

"I don't have much experience in this area, but secrets are bad. You keep 'em for too long and they seem to eat away at your soul. When you start being honest about the situation, things will just start slowly getting better, not just for you, but for the people that you care about too. I think that maybe if you can't do this for yourself, that maybe you can do this whole honesty thing for them." Gabriel got up then and gave him a swift back slap. "Come on, let's get this film done so you can go home."

Dean got up with him and thought about what he had said. It wasn't profound or anything, but it made him reevaluate his stance. It made him look at the damage that had been done from too much solitude and anger. He got up and followed Gabriel back to the rest of the crew, ready to put this film to bed.

* * *

The time between being home and the premiere was short. Charlie came to his apartment and dragged him out for tux fittings and interviews. They avoided the paparazzi as best as they could, and draped smiles on their faces whenever they couldn't. They didn't talk much about the situation at first. She just hugged him at the airport, pressing her head into his chest. He brushed a kiss down into her hair and whispered, "It's good to be home."

A few days into their planned outings and Charlie finally brought up the elephant in the room. "Are you ever going to ask about Cas?"

"Figured you'd bring him up if there was any reason to. He has made it clear that he is not interested in me anymore." Dean was walking at her side. They had decided to take a trek out to Venice Beach to look at a few shops that might have a dress for Charlie. Mostly, it was just nice to get away from the apartment, and this was an excuse.

"Dean, he's coming back soon. I don't think that he ever just up and decided that he was uninterested. You all just need to talk." She wrapped her arm around him more and squeezed him close.

"I think that I let things go too far. I know that I need to tell him, but I'm not going to force him to talk to me or anything."

"That's stupid. As soon as I see him, I'm telling him everything. It would be better if it came from you though." She looked up at him with sad puppy eyes, practically begging him to just do what was necessary.

"I think that he is dating his director. I don't want to mess up his situation. It'll be easier for him to just think that I am a colossal ass." Dean tried to avoid eye contact now, but he could feel Charlie digging her fingers into his side. "Ouch, Charlie."

"There's more where that came from. Now get your head out of your ass. He isn't dating Balthazar. He's never even shown the slightest interest. Haven't you seen the interview feeds with them?"

"Yeah, where do you think that I get my information. They were rather cozy. Did you see the way that he kissed Cas on the cheek? He also had his arm all snaked up around him. None of that was platonic." Dean broke away from Charlie a little, then he noticed the photographer skulking around the corner up ahead and he put his arm back around her waist. "Paparazzi 12 o'clock."

"Hmm, saw 'em. No rest for the weary huh?" She leaned into him. And in a lower voice, "Cas didn't reciprocate."

"Not while the cameras were rolling. He's too smart for that."

"Balthazar is just affectionate. He isn't actually flirting. I think that you are reading too much into it." They ducked past the photographer who was clicking away on his camera as he followed them.

"When are you going to acknowledge your child, Dean?" the man asked as he continued to follow and shoot.

"Fuck off, man. Can't you see, I'm trying to have a little down time with my girl here?" Dean flashed him a grin that was more menace than kindness.

The man turned his attention to Charlie then, "How does it feel to be the other woman? Does it bother you that you are keeping him from his kid?" Charlie ducked her head into Dean's shoulder and that was all it took for Dean to just lose it. He turned on the guy and snatched the camera out of his hands. He flung the thing out into the street and in a flash his fist made contact with the guy's jaw. He staggered back. "I'm going to sue you for all you are worth." He rubbed at his jaw as he smirked back at Dean.

"Then I guess that I better make it worthwhile." Dean moved on him again, this time his fist collided with the side of the man's head, knocking him back but not down for the count. He swung back at Dean, catching him in the ribcage. It hardly seemed to register. Dean swung out with his other arm, catching the man in the gut, doubling him over. He could feel Charlie at his back pulling at his shirt. He swung again; this time he caught his face just right and the man fell to the ground in a heap. He wanted to keep beating him, but Charlie was really pulling on him now.

"Stop, Dean. You have to stop." Dean could feel the rage cooling, but only a little. He leaned down to the unconscious man and checked for breathing. He was breathing.

He turned to Charlie. "I'm sorry." He looked back at the man. "I'm not sorry too."

"Come on. We need to get out of here." They rushed away from the spot as a few onlookers came over to investigate, but they did not get far. The police showed up and there were questions, and more that had to be dealt with. Dean seemed to slip into a type of fog. His vision tunneled and his answers to their questions reflected the nature of his focus. The man chose to file charges until Charlie got a moment with him. She had asked him what it would take to quiet the whole thing down.

Dean had not been allowed near enough to hear the conversation. He saw Charlie looking back at him with concern painted on her face. She turned away from him and continued the conversation with the man. She looked back one last time, a sour downturn to her lips came with a quick nod. They got out of the situation cheaply, all things considered. Charlie refused to tell him right away how much it had cost. She had told him later that she had feared that he would not allow this solution. He came to accept this later. It was all that he could do, and frankly, he did not regret the beating of the man one bit.

* * *

The premiere was a culmination of events. He had been interviewed by _Entertainment Tonight_. He had been asked all of the typical questions about the filming and the things that he enjoyed the most. He kept it simple. He and Charlie had a set script of stories that he could tell at these things. Mostly, Dean was working hard to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he would see Cas tonight. It was practically the only certainty that he had concerning the night ahead. He knew also that Cas was being interviewed later in the day by the same people that were currently sitting across from him. It would all likely be spliced together in a way that would make it seem like it had been done at the same time.

Dean sat across from the blond haired man and folded and unfolded his hands in front of him. "Are you nervous?" He had asked rather calmly. His tone put Dean a little at ease.

"A bit. I feel like tonight is going to be either the best night of my life or the worst. Hopefully, people like the film. I have to admit that I don't really know how it will go." Dean put on his most charming smile and leaned back a little. He was attempting to fall into the calm, stable persona that he and Charlie had developed. He needed to look confident.

The interview seemed to progress through all of the predictable paths. There were the questions about his upcoming role in Gabriel's film and his future plans. There were the questions about his youth, and a slight direction into his life with dear old mom and dad. He had expected that, somewhat. He was just getting comfortable when he saw a familiar figure walking past the windows near the production booth. His gaze locked on, and he followed his movements as he made his way through the room just beyond the studio. _Cas._

The interviewer snapped his fingers in front of him. "Hello, Dean. You with us?"

"Oh, sorry. I just thought that I saw Cas Novak over there. I must be seeing things though, 'cause I heard that he wouldn't be back here until later this evening." Dean shifted about uncomfortably in his seat.

The interviewer turned around and looked in the general direction that Dean had gestured. Cas was gone, or had never been there. Either way the interviewer did not see him and said, "Hmm, I have him scheduled for 3:30 because he said that his flight wouldn't even get in until the afternoon. Seems like it might be too early for him to be showing up."

"Well, I guess that I am just seeing things then, or he has a twin. Either way, let's get through this thing."

"So, how long has it been since you've seen Mr. Novak? Seems like you two had become best friends and all during the early promotional tour. He had a lot of kind words to say about you the last time that I interviewed him."

"Really?How nice. I haven't seen him since he flew off to Cairo for his new film. I have nothing but kind words for him. I was lucky to have met him."

The interviewer shuffled through his papers a little, leaned back farther into his seat and asked, "What do you think that you'll say to him after all of this time apart? Do you think that you'll just drop back into the old comfortable camaraderie?"

"I would like to think so. We became fast friends. It would be a shame if there was any awkwardness. I look forward to grabbing a cup of coffee or some burgers with him and catching up." Dean hoped that his words would carry with them the message that he hoped that Cas would understand. The interview went back down familiar paths. There were questions about Charlie and their 'relationship' as well as some questions about the current dramas with Lisa. He worried that he would not be able to evade the topic enough. He smiled through the awkwardness and when he left, everyone was pleasant.

As he left, he couldn't help but look around the studio a little for Cas. He was having a bit of a focus issue and found himself whipping his head around at odd moments looking for the figure that he knew so well. He did not see Cas though. He made it home and checked his answering machine for messages. There were the usuals from the studio, from Sam, and from a few friends that had wanted to wish him well. He wandered into his bedroom and looked at the tux that was hanging from his bathroom door. It still felt odd being home, like it was too quiet. He had started looking into moving, but had not committed to it yet. He just couldn't feel comfortable in this space. He slowly changed out of his clothes and into the tux. He cast a glance over at the clock and figured he had practically no time to get it all together if he was going to pick up Charlie. He looked into the bathroom mirror before leaving and gave himself a little scowl. _Should probably shave._ Then he thought a little more about it and realized that he couldn't. He would have to take off the suit and then get dressed all over again. He reached up and rubbed at his chin. He seemed to be trying to convince himself that it looked just fine. It was actually attractive in a rugged sort of way. It added shadow to his features that gave him an a tougher vibe.

He decided to leave before he could consider it any further. He grabbed his wallet and keys and dashed out the door. The drive to Charlie's place would take nearly twenty minutes in even the best of L.A. traffic. He wondered, secretly, how Cas was going to get there on time if he had an interview at 3:30. That barely gave him enough time afterwards to change and drive to the theater. _Clearly, he is not going home to get ready._ He had mused on this point. He had also thought about how their first encounter could go. He knew that it would be awkward. He worried about how it might be difficult for both of them. He knew that he tended to fail at making his points properly. He wondered if he would be able to tell him about Lisa and the baby without making him feel any pressure about their relationship.

_Really, he should just feel free to do whatever he wants, with whoever he wants._ Dean didn't really feel this, at least not the part about Cas moving on, but if he told himself it enough times, then maybe he would come to at least accept it.

When he pulled up in front of Charlie's place, she was already outside, at the curb. "For god's sake, Dean. We're not going to make it on time." She didn't even let him shut off the car. She threw herself into the passenger seat and he took off. The whole situation would be funny if she would just let it be.

Dean laughed anyway. "They can't start without their stars."

"They can and they will. Plus, I will be the one doing damage control for your sorry ass when you are late. So, put the pedal to the metal." Dean complied and they tore through the streets. He managed to weave in and out of the traffic in a way that could only be described as miraculous, both because of the skill and for the mere fact that they survived it. They got to the theater with a minimal amount of moments to spare. They wandered through the crowds, posed for pictures, and answered questions as they made their way in. Dean kept looking for Cas. He did not see him.

"Have you seen Cas yet?" He leaned toward Charlie with the question.

"No. You?"

"I keep thinking that I see him. I thought that I saw him at the studio during my interview, but I guess I'm just crazy." She gave Dean a little squeeze and he added, "He is coming tonight, right?"

"Yeah, he is contractually obligated. Plus, I would imagine that he wants to see this. It is his first film after all."

"Yeah." Dean still scanned the aisles looking for the familiar mop of brown hair. He looked toward the front and saw Zachariah instead. "Shit, made eye contact with Zachariah." The man made his way toward Dean with a Cheshire Cat's grin. His hand was extended even before he reached him. "Hey, Zach." Zachariah seemed to cringe with the nickname.

"Hey yourself, Dean." He released Dean's hand and then gave him the dude slap to the shoulder. "I got you a seat all saved up front." He turned to Charlie then. "I'm not sure if we officially met. I'm Zachariah, the director."

"I haven't had the pleasure." She shook his hand and then added, "I'm Charlie, Dean's manager."

"Oh, I thought that you were his girlfriend."

Dean added, "That too."

"Well, nice job, Winchester. She looks like quite a catch." Zachariah threw her a wink and Charlie just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, okay then, let's get to those seats." She began pulling Dean forward. They headed down the aisle.

"Novak showed up earlier with his girlfriend. Funny how you all managed to find time to get women during my little film. This just tells me that I gave you all too much free time." Zachariah was trying to joke and ended up laughing at his own words.

Dean spoke merely to keep from freaking out about the prospect of seeing Cas so soon. "Yeah, you were way too soft on us. We should totally shoot 20 hour days next time. I only need like, what four hours sleep to be functional." _There he is._ They got to the row and Charlie made her way down the aisle. Cas was in the middle with three seats next to him. Meg was on his left. They were talking and not looking toward Charlie or Dean.

"Cas," Charlie called out to him. She rushed down the row a little. He stood up and smiled at her then his eyes fell on Dean and he looked a little wistful. She pulled him into a hug and he hugged her back tightly.

"Charlie, you look lovely as ever." He sounded so formal. He looked over her shoulder as he said the words, making eye contact with Dean.

He let her go and she stepped to the side as much as the aisle would allow. Dean moved closer and said, "Good to see you again, Cas." Cas reached out to him and took his hand in a quick shake.

"Good to see you again, too, Dean. How has Canada been treating you?"

"Cold." Dean laughed a little, hoping to mask his discomfort. "How was Cairo?"

"Hot." He looked into Dean's eyes. "It's good to be home, though."

"I imagine it would be."

"You haven't come back to L.A.?" He stopped for a moment then after seeming to consider added, "Oh, did you move to San Francisco?"

"Uh, no. Why would you assume that?" Dean looked at him, trying to read him.

"Isn't that where Lisa lives?" He lowered his voice into a softer tone; only Dean and Charlie could hear it.

Charlie moved past Dean and said, "You sit here next to Cas. I'll sit on your other side." She pushed Dean into the seat. They each sat after him.

The lights were growing dim. Dean leaned toward Cas and said, "He is not my child."

Cas looked at him, his eyes squeezing shut a little in a squint. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. She told me about the real father. He's a dick. I send her money to help out, but the kid is not mine." The lights were off completely now and the film started playing. Dean whispered in the dark. "I know you hate me, but for what's it's worth, I'm sorry."

Cas' hand reached over and squeezed his in the dark. "I never hated you. I wanted you to have the family you deserved. I never got to have that with my dad. I didn't want you to have regrets."

Dean squeezed his hand back and was about to say more when Zachariah leaned over and shushed them. Dean dropped his hand and leaned closer to Charlie to conceal how close he had been to Cas. She wrapped an arm around his as the title came up on the screen. The movie spilled out in front of them and Dean did his best to focus on it. He glanced at Cas every now and then and most of the time Cas would turn to him at the same time. Their eyes would lock and Dean would feel warmth in the dark. He hooked his foot up behind Cas' and smiled when Cas did not pull away.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: Thank you all so much for the lovely comments. I realize that I have not updated Dean, the Dangerous... this week. I hope that this is okay as a substitute. I am going to get back to it after the weekend, maybe. I just need to be in the right head space for it. This fic has been a good place for feeling the feels. Plus, I get to make Purgatory/season 8 references. Thanks again for all the love. Thanks in particular to 1hotpepper for the comments (yes it is tomorrow now I think). Thanks rainystv for the thoughts on Benny and Dean. I think that you'll approve of my plans. At least, I hope that you will. Thanks pyroleigh for the appreciation of the flow. I have been trying to work on tone, so this has been a bit of an experiment. Thanks Igniting for even appreciating the sad stuff. Sorry for the tears. Thanks to all of you who have followed and faved this fic too. That is just all kinds of awesome. Love and unicorns to you all dearies.**


	8. Chapter 8

The golden glare of sunlight baked the once wet earth to a dry, cracked expanse of sand. Benny had gone home a couple of days ago, promising to return once he had submitted a couple of his minor stories. They had kept in touch on the phone and had managed to make more concrete plans for continuing the interview. For the time being, though, Dean just slipped in and out of rooms, passing the time by reading scripts, eating, and sleeping, not necessarily in that order. He had tried to keep himself occupied enough so that his mind did not wander down uncomfortable paths. There was nothing to be done now about the past. There was only forward momentum and the need, no the desire, to keep on moving ahead.

Charlie was coming home. He was practically climbing the walls with anticipation. She planned to take a cab home even though Dean had offered to pick her up. He got up from the chair that he had been sitting on. The veranda was a wash of bright orange evening light. It was unnaturally warm for winter, especially considering the storm that had only passed just a couple of days ago. True it was the desert, and it never seemed to stay cold for long, but he kind of thought that it would last a bit more than a week. He walked to the edge of the veranda and rested his arms on the railing. He let his eyes sweep out over his land. There was a small trail that stretched out from the back stairs out into the rolling landscape. He had walked the trail with Cas the first time that they had come to the house. It had been the beginning of beautiful things. He was about to move away from the railing to walk along the path when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"There's my boy." Dean turned to find Charlie leaning into the door frame all smiles.

"You came home early." Dean rushed up to her and scooped her into his arms, spun her around, and kissed her on the top of her head. "I missed you so much."

"Missed you too. I was hollering downstairs for you, but I guess you didn't hear me."

"I was just about to go walking on the trails to kill time. I was getting pretty antsy." He laughed as she squeezed his arm. "Did Dorothy come home with you?"

"No, she had to stay on the set. I'll get to see her in a couple of weeks." They parted and Charlie moved toward the stairs. Dean followed her. "I missed this place. There is something soothing about the way that the land just rolls along in all of those little lumps."

"Yeah. I was thinking that I needed that a little."

"Was it rough, talking about Cas?" She gave his hand a little squeeze.

"At first it was pretty bad. Later it was not so bad. It is giving me a little trouble sleeping at night. I am trying to keep going forward though. I think that I need to finish telling the story. Benny wouldn't let me stop at this point, now anyway." They began walking down the stairway arm in arm toward the trail.

"So, I take it that Benny was okay? You approved of him?" Her tone made Dean falter a little. It was as though she was implying something.

"What do you mean?" Dean's tone dropped into a low gravelled wariness.

"I just wanted to know if you found him to be an acceptable human being is all? Geesh, someone's a little sensitive." They walked along the trail now and she threw him a disarming smile.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you were trying to set me up with Benny."

"I don't even know the guy. Why would I do that?" She paused a beat. "So, he's playing for your team huh?" She winked at him.

"He is. I'm not looking for anyone though, so let's not play amateur matchmaker. Okay?" He gave her a pointed look, dared her to fight him on it.

"Okay, okay. No need to get your hackles up." They wandered over a rise in the hard-packed trail that wound through the landscape. They dipped down a little slope and then looped back up another. Eventually, they came to an adobe wall with weathered wooden trim. Dean had built it with a little help from Charlie. they could have hired someone to do the job, but somehow they both needed to do it on their own. His hands needed occupation, and the wall and the garden had keep them working. They had spent the better part of the month out there, toiling away.

Dean had found an old wooden door. It looked like it belonged on an overly large building, maybe a church. It was trimmed out in metal fixtures. It was almost gothic in nature. He decided as soon as he saw it that it needed to be a part of the garden wall. The rough plan that they had developed seemed to be to make a large garden, surrounded by a high wall. The idea seemed to be to make it a type of retreat. It was more than that. Giving the spot privacy and an added layer of seclusion, though seemed appropriate.

When they finished it, something about it still seemed to be lacking. There were desert plants throughout the space as well as artistically arranged rock gardens. He and Charlie entered the place and wandered to the last piece that had been added to the garden. Dean had flown back to Mazatlan for it. At the time, he felt like he just had to do it. Later he felt a little stupid, or maybe he felt ridiculous. After all, hauling a bench that was in all ways just a common bench, all the way back to the States, was just odd. Charlie dropped into the seat first; then Dean joined her.

"You want to tell me about your time with Benny?" Charlie took his hand. The question was uttered in a different tone from the one that she used before. He knew instinctively that she was really asking about Cas.

"I don't know that there is much to tell. He got me talking, but you already knew that. He wanted to know about Cas, and I have been honest. Hopefully, I don't ruin our livelihood." Dean squeezed her hand and then turned his gaze back out to the garden.

"You gonna call Meg?"

"Nah." He looked back at Charlie then. "Should I?"

"Maybe. I think about calling her from time to time. Seems like we should make the effort. I want her to know that…" She trailed off for a moment. "I don't actually know what I want to tell her. I just sometimes think that we should talk."

"Too much time has passed. Plus, she could have sent out some smoke signals or something. Instead, she just sort of fell off the face of the earth." Dean leaned back into the bench feeling his spine pop a little with the stretch.

"She didn't exactly fall off the face of the earth. We have her number." Charlie pulled her legs up to her. It was an odd position for one to take on the shallow seat of the bench.

"Well, she didn't want us to bother. If she did, she would have shown up at some point. I think that she needed the space."

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself to sleep at night, I guess. I, for one, think that we owe her some effort. Let's decide right now, that we are going to make an effort with her, okay."

"Hmm." Dean wasn't sure how much effort he had in him. "Okay." He committed a little more. Maybe he did owe her at least that much. She had lived with them for a time. She had been important to them. Maybe talking to her mattered or better yet matters. He leaned toward Charlie and rested his shoulder against hers.

"Coming up on the anniversary." She spoke quietly. Her voice dipped into her soothing tone.

"Yep."

"You okay?"

"Mostly."

"I remember buying this place. The anniversary of that is coming up too. It feels like so long ago and not, all at once." Dean could feel her breathing. The way that it shook a little made him shudder a bit. He would push down his own emotions though. It was useless to let it take over now.

Together they sat like that, each in their own way, seeming to long for the past. Dean watched the world around him glow in the last light of the day. The sunlight seemed to set the world around him on fire. The walls were reds and honeyed yellows. The cacti here and there seemed to be covered in sparks as the sunlight glanced off of the many spikes. Dean's mind slipped back to the house as it had been when he had first seen it. The house had been all that Cas had said it would be and more. It was a place that felt like a promise.

* * *

Dean had not realized how busy his life could become. He had hoped for some down time. He had hoped to have time enough to really talk with Cas, fix the whole of their situation. He even wanted to talk about ways that they should change things. He had grown increasingly irritated with the idea that he would have to live his life in such a secretive manner. He did not want to keep dragging Charlie into the difficulties of his life either. He had broached the subject with her, but she had said that the world wasn't ready for that level of openness yet and that it would be career suicide.

So, instead he just kept plodding along. On day one there had been five interviews back to back, then meetings at the studio. On day two he had a photoshoot that took literally all day then more meetings at the studio. At least Cas had been at the studio meeting, even if they couldn't talk. They had sent silent messages back and forth with glances and raised eyebrows. Cas said a lot with a simple smile. Dean enjoyed the meeting. They kept Cas longer than Dean and thus they did not get a moment to really just converse with each other.

When Dean got home that night, he fell onto his bed in a heap and promptly fell asleep. On the third day, he had to meet with Gabriel for lunch, then three more interviews, and then a final photo-op. Promoting the movie was becoming a pain. There would be more too, apparently. He had been informed that he would be flying out to New York for some of the late night talk shows. He would need to have some good canned lines ready for these interviews. These were the interviews that really mattered. The early numbers had come in, and the film was number one at the box office. It was setting records left and right. Dean was hardly able to leave his house without being followed and photographed. It had been a problem before with the paparazzi wanting to cover the whole thing with Lisa, but somehow, the whole fame thing had escalated significantly with the success of the new film.

When he got up the next morning with a crick in his neck and all of his rumpled clothes still on, he knew that a break was necessary. Thankfully, Cas had felt the same. Dean's phone rang. He strode over to it, hoping that it wasn't Charlie setting up anything else. It wasn't her voice that greeted him. "Hello, Dean."

"Oh, thank God. I thought that you were Charlie calling to make me work harder. I swear, I'll never get another moment's peace." Dean huffed out by way of a greeting.

Cas laughed at him and said, "So, I guess that it won't take much to convince you to go out for coffee or maybe a burger?"

"Wow, it's like you read my mind." Dean sunk down into the sofa.

"Or, I just watched your interview on _Entertainment Tonight_." Cas laughed again.

"That aired like sometime last week."

"Yeah, I've been a little busy. Sorry." Dean could practically see the little smirk on Cas' face as the words came to him. "I've missed you."

"Same here," Dean said. He added, "Where should we meet?"

"Come to the desert. I want to show you my little world. Plus, you won't have as many people stalking you out here. It is blazingly hot, and the paparazzi melt in the heat."

"You always know the right things to say. I'm there. 'Bout two hours?"

"Sounds good." He gave Dean his address before he hung up. Dean wrote it down carefully in his sharp print and ran his fingers over each of the numbers. He was happy that the day would be something resembling life and not just work. He was happy that things with Cas seemed to be, maybe, okay. He called Charlie and left her a message, asking her to cancel everything. If he remembered right, there wasn't much to cancel.

He cast a glance around the room. He should be packing for the trip to New York, but he figured that it was a task that could wait.

* * *

Dean stood outside of the small ranch style house. The land around it was rather barren. The front yard was mostly rocks. There was a Joshua Tree growing in the front yard too. It did not take away from the barrenness. Despite the arid emptiness, it was charming. The house, itself, was white, mostly. The fence around the perimeter was barely a fence, but more like a couple of boards stretching from one post to another. Dean wondered, as he walked up the path, whether or not Cas had had to deal with many paparazzi or eager fans out here. He didn't have much to hold them back. A little girl sat on the sidewalk out front, drawing with a big slab of blue chalk. She was making an angel. He had smiled at her as he passed.

He knocked on the door, two short raps. He could hear movement inside and he instinctively took a step back, so as not to crowd the doorway. Cas opened the door with a bit more energy than Dean had expected. He smiled at him. In fact, he beamed at him. Cas smiled back, and it traveled up to his eyes in a way that made Dean just want to pull him close. He held back though. He wanted to feel out just where their relationship was now. They had been standing there for a tad too long, and Dean felt the need to finally say something. "Well, Cas, you gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I think that I just imagined having you over so many times that the fact that you were on my doorstep threw me a little." Cas stepped aside while he was saying this and Dean moved past him into the home. Cas looked like he was feeling a little nervous.

"You okay," Dean asked as Cas closed the door behind him.

"Yeah, I just think that I have been worrying over how it would be. I was worried that it might be awkward after all of this time." Cas was pressing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tipping back and forth on his heels.

Dean reached out to him and ran his hand a little up his arm. "I'd be okay with pretending that we haven't squandered a bunch of months in fuckin' Canada and Cairo. Just say the word." Dean drew closer to Cas and leaned down a little.

"We should talk about it. I owe you an apology, and I won't be okay with just pretending that away."

"If you must. Like I said, I'm good." Dean slinked away though and surveyed the room.

"You want the tour first?" Cas stepped away from the wall and Dean let him pass.

"Sure, if that'll make you more comfortable." Dean followed him down the hall. Cas opened the first room. It was a small office with a desk and a wall of books. The desk faced out toward a window that took up a large portion of the wall. One could see most of the neighborhood from it. Dean turned to the bookcase to take in Cas' books. They were a nice showcase of his personality. He had everything from the classics like _The Count of Monte Cristo_ to some modern pieces like _The Stand_. Dean ran his fingers along the rows of book spines smiling at the new chapters that he was adding to his mental book on Cas Novak.

"I didn't peg you for a Stephen King fan." Dean turned to him after reading the title of the fourth King book on the shelf.

"I think that most people are. He is quite popular, you know." Cas walked over to the shelf and stood at his side. "I spend a fair amount of time in here. The lighting is good and the books offer an escape."

"You must have missed it while you were in Cairo." Dean looked at him to gauge a response.

Cas stared back. "I did. I really meant it when I said that I missed you. I'm so sorry, Dean."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't know." Dean wanted to bridge the gap between them more, but he felt like Cas was in need of personal space.

"I have baggage, Dean. I never talked about it, but my dad was never really around when I was growing up. I bounced around a lot when I was a kid from one relative to the next. I got emancipated when I turned 16. Got a job not long after that and even took some community college classes, mostly theater."

"I had no clue." Cas walked over to the cushy chair and sunk into it. Dean sat across from him in the office chair. He spun the chair around more to face him better.

"I never mentioned it because I like to think that I'm over it. I like to tell myself that it is in the past and that it doesn't matter. That's a lie though. I might never be over it." He shuddered and leaned forward onto his knees a little.

Dean reached over to him and squeezed his hand a little. 'It's okay, Cas."

"I detect a note of forgiveness." He dipped his head down further sheepishly.

"You got that some time ago. I mean it, Cas." Dean waited then for more of Cas' story.

"I haven't seen my dad in years. I don't even know where he is now." He looked at Dean and added, "When you said that you might be a father, I just snapped a little. I was so afraid that you would blow it off to be with me or that I would be standing by watching you trying to avoid it. I just couldn't handle it."

Dean became uncomfortable then. "How could you think that I was that kind of person? I thought that you knew me better than that."

"You made it sound like you didn't want to acknowledge the child."

"I was freaking out, sure, but I have never acted like an asshole where kids are concerned. Geesh, Cas. You know I practically raised my baby brother, right?"

"I didn't know that. I made this about me instead of about you. I freaked out. I did what I thought was best and I stayed away. I made sure that I was in a situation where I couldn't contact you and mess up your life. I even made sure that no one back home could contact me. I didn't want to get in your way. Turned out that I was wrong." Cas rubbed his hands together in front of himself. He looked smaller somehow than Dean had remembered him. Maybe it was the way that he did not seem to be as confident.

"Could I ask you something about your time in Cairo?" Dean had felt like he maybe was making a mistake going down this path, but he knew that it would bother him too much if he did not.

"Go for it."

"Did you and Balthazar have anything going on? I know that it is maybe not right for me to be asking, but it looked like maybe something was up in those interviews that you two did."

Cas looked away for a moment then he returned his gaze to Dean. "Balthazar kissed me, but it never went any further than that. I made sure to put a stop to it before it escalated. I thought that he viewed me as a friend, so I was a little surprised by the kiss."

"Oh." Dean was trying not to feel upset by the admission.

"I am completely uninterested in him." Cas reached out and cupped Dean's face in his hands. "I am really only interested in one person right now."

"Well, I sure hope that you mean me, because otherwise this would be really awkward." Dean laughed at him. The earlier admission about Balthazar was allowed to slip away.

"What do you say, I take you to the world's best burger joint in Riverside County?"

"Wow, you know how to treat a guy." Dean leaned in and kissed him. The brush of Cas' stubble grazing his cheek as he leaned in. Cas kissed him back but lightly. They parted and Cas took his hand and pulled him out to the hall and then to the car. Cas ignored Dean's perfectly respectable vehicle and instead strode over to a semi-new looking golden yellow Lincoln Continental. "Oh, God. Is that your car?"

"Yep. It's a beaut isn't it?" Cas smiled at Dean as he said it. "I got her when we got the first check. I had a friend go pick it up for me."

"I don't know what to say." Dean just ran his fingers lightly over the side of it on his way to the passenger's door.

"Wait 'till you hear her purr. Best purchase ever." Cas hopped into the driver's seat and Dean got into his side. _It's certainly big. God, I am going to have to pretend that I like it. I am going to have to pretend that it is awesome. I am not a fan. Shut-up Winchester. It sounds horrible. Oh, the engine. What the hell is that extra whine? That is not purring. No, no, no. What the hell does he see in this thing. My God. Seriously. Oh, no, he was asking me something._

"Sorry, Cas, what did you say?"

"I asked what you thought."

"Oh, too soon to say. Give her a little gas and let me get a feel for her." _Good cover, Dean. Just avoid as much as possible. If I am careful enough, I'll be able to redirect enough for us to avoid the topic of the car all together._

* * *

Dean managed to make it to the burger joint without saying anything about the car that sounded too critical. He redirected the conversation toward other things. They found a booth in the restaurant and ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and sodas. Cas drummed his fingers on the formica tabletop a little grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

"What's got you so happy?" Dean reached across the table and gave Cas' hand a little squeeze, then he released it and returned to his side of the table before anyone in the near empty restaurant could see.

"I thought that I had well and truly lost you. It is good to know that maybe I haven't." Cas looked out the window at the bright world. The afternoon sunlight seemed to scorch everything in a golden light. "It's going to be a hot one today."

Dean let out a little chuckle in response. "So, you want to talk about the weather?"

"Not really. I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I think because so much time has passed. I don't know where to begin again." He looked back at Dean.

"How 'bout we just spend the day together? We could just do that. You could show me around or something, then you won't have to feel too weird about it. I bet if we do that, we'll be like our old selves in no time." Dean leaned back a little in a posture that exuded confidence, arms stretched back behind his head.

"I do owe you a trek out to see this glorious house that I talked about back when we were in Mazatlan. I think that we said that it would be a date or somesuch. Better late than never, right?" Cas stopped talking when the waitress showed up with their drinks. The wax cups already had little beads of condensation forming on them.

Dean lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip from the straw. "My dad always said that there was no manly way to drink from a straw."

"Weird thing to think about." Cas sipped from his drink too.

"I think that maybe he was weighing in on something else." Dean set the drink aside.

"Hmm. I think that you should make a point of drinking all of your drinks from straws then." Cas reached back across to him and brushed his hand quickly before retreating back to his side of the table.

Dean moved his leg out a little and allowed it to rest up against Cas' leg. The pressure of him there was a comfort. Dean drank from the cup again. the straw rested on his lip even after he was done. Cas grinned at him. "Do you think that the house is still on the market?"

"I don't think it is; I know that it is. They had it all but sold before I left, but the sale fell through. I guess that tiny miracles do still happen." Cas' hand found Dean's knee under the table. His fingers pressed affection into him. "You still looking for a new place to live?"

"Am I? Seriously, you've seen my place. It is not ideal." Dean folded his hands and rested his chin on them.

"You should buy this one then. We could practically be neighbors. Well, not really neighbors as it is like 15 miles from my house, but closer than where you currently live, by far." Cas sounded like his old comfortable self for a moment, so Dean threw a little caution to the wind.

"Or, I could rent a room to you and save you some cash."

"A room in that place would not save me some cash." Cas ducked his head a little and allowed his hand to fall from Dean's knee.

"Too soon?"

"No. I was was just being light and easy."

"Not very easy." They both grinned at each other now. A short while later the food showed up. They attacked the burgers with a swiftness that spoke to their hunger. Every few moments they would stop and look at each other. When they finished eating, Dean got up and paid the bill.

"I would have covered my end of it."

"You can play catch up the next time." Dean laughed at him as they headed out into the parking lot. The sunlight was glaringly bright off of the few cars that were parked there. None were quite so bright as the golden Lincoln though. Dean sucked in a breath as he approached and opened the passenger side door. They drove off down the road and took a turn down a long nearly single-laned road. It stretched off for a long ways in a straight line that dipped and rose in a series of what Dean would have called woopty bumps back when he and Sam road in the back seat of his father's car on road trips. He smiled at the memory. The thought of his brother letting out a loud cheer each time the car would crest the rise was a good memory. The Lincoln crested the first rise and Cas accelerated. The drop was a little noticeable and Dean looked to Cas to see if he was doing it on purpose.

"I love driving this road, the feeling in your gut when you hit the tops of the hills." Cas smiled as they hit the second crest.

"Yeah, I was just remembering doing this with Sam. So, I guess that the house already has one thing going for it, the road." Dean looked off ahead of them and saw the house. It was so removed from everything. He had to wonder what the builder was thinking, building something so big, so far away from the rest so the world. The land around it though, was amazing. Cas had been right about that. "Wow." Dean uttered the last under his breath, but Cas seemed to hear him.

"I know. And you know what else? No one is going to come all the way out here to take pictures of you. You get privacy." He reached over and patted Dean's leg a moment then returned his hand to the wheel, turning up the driveway. "I saw the coverage that you got from the tabloids while I was gone. I believe that you could do with a little break from all of that."

"You got that right." Dean noticed that they were actually pulling up to the front of the house. "Hey, Cas. Aren't we kind of trespassing right now?"

"Nope, my friend is the agent trying to sell the place. He told me that I could come out here and take a look around. He's going to be here in a few to let us look inside. He told me to check out the grounds first."

"When did you arrange all of this?" Dean got out of the car, letting the door close with a loud slam, cringing as he did so.

"Oh, I'm just sneaky. When you were polishing off my fries, I went off to the bathroom and used the payphone. It was easy." Cas strolled around to Dean's side and directed his path with a hand to his lower back. "Come on." They walked around the side of the house. They found a trail that wound around the place. It looped up little rolling hills and dipped into tiny valleys. Dean liked the way that the sunlight seemed to make it all bright yellows and reds. The earth was fire, and they were walking in it.

"Even just the land is great. The house is just the icing on the cake." Dean reached over and took Cas' hand.

"Yeah, I like the colors of it, and the empty fullness."

"Not sure what that means." Dean squeezed his hand and felt the reciprocal motion of Cas' thumb stroking him.

"Well, there is a lot going on out here, from the little lizard over there, skittering through the sagebrush to that vulture looping in the air over there. There is life and, yet at a distance you don't see it. It all looks empty and barren. It is like a beautiful, magical secret."

"I get that, I think. I like this." They came to the end of the path and looked off at the vast desert landscape that stretched out to high brown mountains in the distance.

"This spot reminds me of that book, _The Secret Garden_. Did you ever read it?" Cas turned to face the back of the house.

Dean turned with him. "No. Is it like one of your King books?"

"No, it is about a little kid that is raised by parents that pay her no attention. They eventually die and she ends up getting raised by some people that have a secret, walled off garden. The place is healing and comfort in a cruel world. I first saw this place after I lost my job on the soap opera. I was a little down. I wandered through here during one of their open houses and it helped heal me." They began walking back to the house. Cas let go of Dean's hand. "Sounds like Alfie is here."

Dean could hear the crunch of tires in the distance. They found a small red Datsun with a white pinstripe down the side. It reminded Dean of a little rollerskate in a way. _Too small._ He was beginning to think that he was becoming a bit of a car snob. He looked to Cas to see if this was the guy that would give them the tour, then Alfie got out of the car and strode over saying, "Hey, Cas. Welcome back." They hugged briefly and then parted. Alfie had short cropped sandy brown hair. His face was a baby face, but Dean thought that maybe he was older than his features. He turned to Dean next. "And you must be Dean Winchester. In the market for a house, huh?"

"Yep. I think that I might be. Cas has been really talking this place up." Dean shook his hand and then then Alfie directed them to the front door.

"Yeah, I think that Cas is trying to justify taking a cut of my commission on this place. I kinda thought that he would be the one buying it though." Alfie was all smiles as he unlocked the door and lead them in. "As you can see, the entryway is not all that exciting. It is small and leads right to the stairway; however, once you get past that, the rooms are all immense and charming."

At that point, Dean started to tune Alfie out. He looked at all the rooms and imagined himself living in them. He imagined his furniture and the way that the sunlight would drift through the windows onto it all. He strolled through the sunroom and onward toward the library. Alfie said something about how many bedrooms and bathrooms there were. Cas, thankfully, kept up their end of the conversation so that Dean could just wander with his imagination. _I want this house._ They walked through the bedrooms and Alfie finally broke through Dean's silent musings with a question. "Come again," Dean turned to him.

"I said, do you think that you might want to put in an offer on this place?"

"I do. You think that I could swing it?" Dean turned to him as he spoke. He was standing in one of the master bedrooms. He had already mentally mapped out where he would put his bed and nightstands.

"Well, let's go on down to the office in town and see what we can work out. If what Cas has told me is true, you should qualify quite easily. I mean, you two have just starred in a film that is number one at the box office, so I would imagine that either one of you could afford pretty much whatever you want."

They headed out of the house and Dean cast a slight glance back at it before getting into Cas' car. The sun was heading into the evening stretch now, making everything look a little redder than before. He liked the way that the house glowed with it, with promise, and warmth.

* * *

It took one month for the house to be his. The escrow went quickly. He moved in with the help of Charlie, Cas, and Meg. They had made a decision, all of them, over the month that the house was in escrow. It began with Cas. Dean had gone home the night that he had put in an offer on the house. He had returned to Cas the next day and the day after that. They flew to New York together, to do their interviews, promoting the film. Charlie and Meg joined them.

Eventually, they started to notice that they were really always together. Dean spent most of that month either at Cas' house or Cas was at his apartment. Meg or Charlie would be there too, to keep the tabloids from suspecting. By the third week, Cas was throwing together some breakfast and Meg and Charlie were sitting at the table. Dean was pouring some coffee and carrying the mug to the table. "I think that we should all move in with you, Dean."

Dean looked up at Cas a little surprised. Meg and Charlie had not been paying much attention to them. They were making their own connection across the table, but Cas' words snapped them out of it for a bit. "What are you talking about, Cas." Charlie spoke up first.

"I was just thinking that maybe we should all move with Dean. I mean, your place is pretty small, Meg, and Charlie, you hate living in L.A. almost as much as Dean does. I think that I'll practically be at Dean's place every chance I get anyways, so why not?" Cas seemed a little nervous as he explained himself. Dean got up and walked over to him.

"So, it's not everyday that someone basically invites a bunch of people to live in my house." He wrapped his arms around Cas' waist as he stirred the eggs in the frying pan. He leaned into the crook of his neck and pressed a kiss there. Cas looked a little apologetic for a moment. "Sounds like a good plan though."

"I'm game if you all are. I get my own room though. I don't think that I can handle Dean's snoring, and there is only so much that I am willing to do for my little unicorn." Charlie laughed at the look on Dean's face.

"I don't snore."

"You so do." Cas leaned into a kiss. "It's like tiny snorts. So cute."

Dean blushed a little and went back to the table. "How 'bout you Meg? You up for the commune life at Casa de Dean?" He sent her a wink.

Meg leaned back in her chair and said, "It's hardly a commune. That place is a fucking mansion. I thought communes were filled with dirty hippies." She laughed.

"Well, why do you think that we are inviting you?" Dean said it, and had to duck immediately as Meg grabbed a warm biscuit from the basket on the table and hurled it at him. Charlie got up and retrieved the biscuit.

"Now, children don't fight." She turned to Meg then, "So, you think you might be up for it?"

"Hmm. Gotta think about it. Seems rather sudden you know. The relationship is still newish." Meg looked at her and seemed to be saying something more than what Dean and Cas were a part of.

Charlie nodded. "I get that." She turned to Cas then to Dean. "I'm in. I need to get away from L.A. so bad. This is possibly the best opportunity ever." She walked over to Meg's side of the table and pressed a kiss into her hair. "Now we just have to convince this one that it could be fun."

"No fair, that's three against one." Meg smiled back at her.

"All's fair in love and war." Charlie reached past Meg and grabbed her plate. She walked over to Cas in the kitchen and held it out toward him. "Egg me up Cas."

"Okie dokie, princess." He scooped up the eggs out of the hot pan and dumped them on her plate. "Bring your plates over." He waved his spoon out at Dean and Meg. They complied.

Dean grinned out at them all. _I'm going to have to get use to sharing space. I'm going to be living with Cas._ He looked at Cas. He wondered if it would change them. He wondered if it would be a good step for them. _Who cares. I get to see him everyday. We get to see each other each morning and each night. We get to live in our home together._

* * *

Charlie and Dean had a meeting that came up. They were summoned out to San Diego though, so they didn't mind much. _Better than L.A._, Dean thought. He had decided to call Benny to set up a late lunch and to let him meet Charlie. He had agreed readily and now their day was set.

The morning meeting was generating hope in him. They were essentially doing a kind of audition for a part in a drama that Dean read recently. It was one of the rare scripts in the pile of scripts that he had found favorable. In fact, it was more than favorable; it was great.

What made it less like an audition was the fact that he felt like they were courting him. From the moment that they entered the room, everyone seemed to be trying to get him everything that they thought that he would need. From the grazer buffet to the constant questions that seemed to seek his approval, Dean felt pretty positive.

They headed to the Gaslamp district of San Diego to meet with Benny at a cafe that he had suggested. "I don't think that could have gone any better, Dean."

"I know. Crazy. You'd think a year off would have ended my chances in this town."

"I think that it just made them want you more."

Dean laughed at her. "Guess I still got it a little." They drove on until they came to a parking garage. They weren't too far from the cafe if he got Benny's directions right. They got out and walked down the street arm in arm. "You going to come with me to Georgia if I take the job?"

Charlie didn't answer right away. He wondered again if he was asking for too much from her. "I'll need a new wardrobe. Georgia's hotter than hell." She grinned at him.

Dean felt momentarily reassured, but knew that eventually they would need to have the talk, the one where he released her from his dependency.

At the end of the street was the cafe, and just before it, was a small bookstore. "Let's duck in here for a sec." Dean pulled at her side a little.

"We have time?"

"Sure. I'll just be a minute." He was already opening the door. She gave him a skeptical look but followed anyway.

He remembered how Cas had looked that first day in the library of their new house. The first thing that he had unpacked when they had moved in was his collection of books. He barely filled one segment of the library shelves. He had stood there surveying the rows planning. Dean had looked at him with awe while he had planned. Little had he known that Cas would view the library as a grand project.. It would become his obsession. Cas shopped in every bookstore in every town that he visited. When they had to leave to film in some distant part of the world, boxes of books would come home via small crates sometimes. Visiting the bookstore in San Diego was a bit of nostalgia for Dean.

The shop was longer than it was wide. His eyes swept the space. He did not know where to begin. He wandered deeper into the space. "I'll be here when you are done." Charlie moved down a row of books, pulling one off of the shelf as she went. Dean moved past her down the rows. He turned and moved still deeper into the place. He did not have a destination. He was just happy to be there. He stretched out his hand to the rows of book spines and allowed his fingers to run along them in a gentle bit of reverence. The more he moved into the bookstore, the farther in he went, the more the air around him changed. It was now all book smells, the old smell of paper, slightly musty, with a touch of leather. He breathed in deeply and came to a stop.

He let his eyes run from the top of the shelf down to eye level. The rows seemed to be organized by authors with the last names starting in B's. His gaze moved down lower. Toward the bottom of the shelves he saw what he wanted. He crouched down on his haunches and reached out to the book. _The Secret Garden._ He read the spine and let his hand linger on the book for a moment before pulling it out. There was just the one copy. He held it in front of him. The cover was green with gold gilt lettering. Arguably, it was a children's book. That didn't matter though. He tipped it toward his face and breathed it in. He felt like he was breathing in years and lives as he did so. Dean carried the book to the front counter, passing Charlie as he went. He paid and the clerk wrapped the book in brown paper, tying it up with twine at the end. It somehow made the purchase seem even more precious.

They walked out together, and made their way to the cafe and Benny. Charlie tapped the book. "What did you buy?"

"_The Secret Garden." _He did not elaborate. She knew of Cas' love for the story and even how he did not have a copy of it in the library. He was looking for a first edition, he had said. They saw Benny in the corner. He gave them a little wave.

When they got to the table, Benny stood and gave Dean a quick hug. "Good to see you again, brother." Dean laughed at the term. Benny turned to Charlie. "Haven't met you in person yet, but a hug seems right." He hugged her too.

"Well, Benny, I feel like we already met, but I guess you're right. It had all been on the phone. I guess that Dean made you seem quite real to me too." They all took their seats and Dean set his book on the edge of the table as the waiter came by to fill their glasses with water.

"Looks like you found the bookstore. Spent a fair amount of time in there myself." Benny gestured at the book. "How did your audition go?"

Charlie spoke for him. "I think that they would have offered Dean the role right then and there. They were trying to convince him to see the benefits of working with them." She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Well, now, that sounds promising. You were hoping for a dramatic role, and here it is just begging for your expertise." Benny smiled across the table at him.

"Yeah, I was sorta surprised that they were so eager. I thought that I would have to do more convincing. The story is quite good." Dean closed his menu, having selected what he would eat.

"So, where will you be jetting off to for the filming?" Benny closed his menu now too.

"Looks like Georgia." Dean glanced over at Charlie to see if she was ready to order yet, since the waiter was edging back over. He turned to Benny and saw a look of concern on his face. Before he could ask though the waiter was there taking their orders.

When that was done, Benny asked, "So, Georgia?"

"Yeah, Charlie is maybe gonna go. She was angling for a new wardrobe as part of the deal."

"Girl's gotta look her best, and you like getting me new things, so don't act all put out." She gave him a playful slug to the shoulder.

"Yeah, but that will likely be a little rough for you, won't it?" Benny turned to Dean, and that old look of concern was back.

"Don't see why," Dean responded. He did see why, but didn't feel like acknowledging it out loud.

"Hmm." Benny fell quiet for a moment then said, "Isn't that where Cas filmed _Perdition_?"

Dean let his mind slip back a little as he answered. _Yes, it was. _It was the last film that he had chosen to make before going into early retirement. _It was where he learned of the problems._ Instead of an elaborate answer he said, "Yes, it was in Georgia, but Georgia is a big state."

Benny hummed again and then took a sip of his water. Dean glanced at Charlie again. "I didn't think about that," Charlie said as she looked back at him.

"It isn't a big deal. So, Cas worked there. He worked in a bunch of places. You forget he lived with us too, but you don't say, 'don't go home, Dean. Cas use to live there.'" The waiter dropped off a tumbler of rum and coke in front of Dean and an iced tea in front of Benny. Dean plucked up the cocktail straw and started stirring the drink around a bit.

"You're right, I guess. I just thought that it might be hard to go back there." Benny sipped from his drink. "Shouldn't assume, I guess." He threw a glance Charlie's way though, and Dean knew that they were both assuming plenty.

"It'll be fine. I'll be fine there. I'm looking forward to it actually." He took a drink from the glass, pushing aside the straw with his finger. "He liked it there, ya know. He said it felt like everyone was saying two things at once. You bump into someone and they apologize, but really they were just helping you to say it. They weren't really sorry. He told me all sorts of stories like that before I showed up there. I got to know the place pretty well just from our talks on the phone."

"Your part in that one was pretty small if I remember right." Benny seemed to be asking, but really he already knew. Everyone knew Dean's filmography.

"Yeah, we had a lot of large buddy films in our collection together. This one was supposed to be just his, but I wanted to make sure to see him at some point, so I weaseled my way into a small part."

"Did he mind?" Benny leaned back as the waiter brought out salads for them.

"No," Dean answered when the waiter left. "He and I were on the same page about that sort of thing. It was always better when we were together than it was when we were apart." Dean became quiet again. He used the moment to eat a few bites of the greens in front of him. He thought about the problems that arose while they were on set. He thought about the way that things seemed to change so rapidly. He thought about the things that they lost there and of the things that later he would have to carry on his own.

* * *

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**AN: So, we are down to the last two chapters, I think. I had planned to end it in eight, but my prose got a little more cumbersome than I had planned. Thanks for the comments on this one. I know that it has been longer than I thought that it would be when I first started and you have all been patient (I think) with the scattered updates. I am going to try to finish it up this week. As far as the end is concerned, some of you have asked about that, and I don't intend to spoil any of it. If anyone is uninterested in reading it, then they should stop now. I promise not to force you to keep reading (as if I had the power to do so). Much love to you all. 'Till the next update (maybe Tuesday).**


	9. Chapter 9

He had packed several containers and had shipped them to Georgia. The production company had secured an apartment for him to use during his time on set. He was going to be there for a couple of months. Charlie said that she would join him in a few weeks. He thought about the ways that he would have to pass the time. He thought about Meg and how close she was to the set. In fact, he was pretty sure that she would be working on the set. She was, after all, very experienced. She would be a shoo in. Then he thought about it a little. _Maybe she wasn't doing that sort of job anymore._ He started opening up the containers to put away his clothes and other items. He was going to have to get it all squared away that night, because tomorrow would be a day full of work on the set.

There was a timid sounding knock at the door. He wondered who it could be. No one really knew that he lived here. He had a fairly secure situation too, because the apartment complex had a check-in desk on the ground floor. He strolled over to the door and opened it. Meg was standing there. "Hey there, Dean."

"Shit. Meg. Oh, my god. Come here." Dean practically lifted her off the floor in a full hug. They parted and she laughed at him a little.

"So, I guess I surprised you. I thought that maybe Charlie would warn you that I was planning to show up." Dean stepped back and Meg moved into the room past him.

"She didn't tell me a thing. You two talked?" Dean closed the door and stood next to her.

"Yeah, we talked. Don't get all hopeful. She has a girlfriend you know. There's no getting the band back together." She smiled at him. It was a little wistful. He opted to diffuse it a little.

"Yeah, I've met Dorothy a few times. She's cool. Her last girlfriend was cooler though." He smiled at her and the two of them moved into the living room. "Can I get you a drink or anything?"

"I'll take a beer if you want to spare one." Dean moved over to the fridge and pulled out a beer for her and one for himself. They sat on the couch and tossed back a few gulps nearly in sync.

"You get hired on at the set?"

"Yep. I needed to make a little more money and thought this might be a good solution. I was mostly living on the money that Cas gave me. Got bored with just sitting on my ass though. Needed to do something to pass the time."

The mentioning of Cas twisted his stomach a little. He did not want to go down that path. They hadn't spoken in so long that it was likely the most reasonable path to head down, but he would be damned if he didn't fight it a little. "I missed you. Charlie and I were just talking about you the other day."

"Yeah? Well, I haven't changed my number, so you must not have missed me all that much." She smiled through the words though. Dean still felt the bite from them, despite the smile.

"I was kinda depressed. I couldn't really talk to anyone for a long while. I barely spoke with Charlie and she was there day in and day out. I had to just get through each day." It was more than he wanted to explain. He just couldn't find a way to change their course.

"I get that. I was pretty messed up too. I can only imagine how it was for you. I'm sorry, Dean. I'm really sorry." She slid across the couch to him and wrapped an arm around him. He pulled her close and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry too." They leaned back from each other a few minutes later and drank down the rest of the beer. "Maybe tomorrow, we could hang out for a bit, see the town or something."

"That sounds nice. You want to see some of the old stompin' grounds?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I would. I might not be good for much after a full day on set, but I would like to take in the sites." Meg got up then and handed Dean her empty bottle.

"'Til tomorrow then." She smiled as she headed for the door. "I've missed you Dean."

"I'm glad you showed up." He walked her to the door.

She pointed over to his fireplace. "You should make a fire. It gets chilly here at nights."

"Huh, I kinda told myself that this was just for decoration. I mean, I'm in an apartment."

She laughed at him while she slipped out the door. "It is totally a working fireplace. Use it. You're in the penthouse. You can thank me tomorrow." With that she closed the door and left. Dean turned back to his unpacking and to the fireplace.

The evening passed in a quiet hum of activity. He had felt the cold creeping in the later it got. He decided to stoke up the fire. He lifted a few hunks of wood and placed them on the metal shelf in the hearth. He got the fire going, and then took a seat on the rug in front of the flames. The warmth of it stirred up memories. He tucked his legs up to his chest and hugged them tight to him. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander over the years

* * *

They had grown comfortable in their home. Meg and Charlie were there often enough to keep the world from guessing their true arrangements. The tabloids had written about their lives. Charlie and Dean were finally receiving positive media coverage, and their so-called romance was given tons of admiration in most articles that dealt with them. Meg and Cas had always been treated like Hollywood's darlings. They played to the cameras well.

In reality, things were nearly perfect. Dean and Cas took roles that allowed them to play everything from buddy cops to mortal enemies. The most important thing to them was just being together. They continued to do well at the box office, and thus they became very financially secure. Beyond that though, was a deeper happiness. Dean had not expected it to ever come to him. He would wake up in the morning to Cas laying next to him in what could best be described as a corpse posture. He slept with his arms held tight to his chest, legs ram-rod straight. Dean liked to mess with him when he was like this. Often he would throw himself on top of him and ruffle up his hair. Other times he would just stretch across him and tangle their limbs together. Still other times, he would just stare at him and marvel at his luck.

They had gone on like this for years. Sometimes Dean thought that they should just come out to the world, let them know that they were together. No more lies would be necessary, but most days they didn't dwell on it. They lived their lives and loved as they loved in the privacy of their home. Sometimes though Dean wanted more than that. Cas had taken a part in a movie that would be filmed in Georgia. He had not managed to figure out how he was going to follow him there. It was in moments like that that he felt the most insecure. He wanted to know that they were an always kind of thing, and sometimes when they had to go off to separate parts of the world, it felt like he could lose him. Maybe it was a stupid fear, but it was something that kept him up at night sometimes. The people that he loved tended to not stay put. So in that way his fears seemed to be grounded in experience.

It was a few nights before Cas was set to leave for Georgia that he roamed into the library to find Dean sitting in front of the fireplace, poking at the logs with the iron fire poker. He wandered over and sat down next to him on the rug without a word. He had, over the years, learned to read Dean. He leaned toward him and allowed their arms to rest against one another. He pulled out a cigarette and prepared to light it. Dean shifted away a little. "Oh, sorry. I forgot you were trying to quit." Cas set the cigarette aside.

"It's okay. It'll likely calm you. I bet you have a lot to sort out before flying out tomorrow." Dean kept poking away at the log. Cas reached over and took the poker away, setting it off to the side of the hearth.

"You okay?" Cas moved his hand to Dean's back and fell to rubbing small circles of affection there.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Talk to me." Cas leaned in closer.

"I don't like you going away. It unsettles me. I'm fine though, really. It's just for a few months and I'll find a way to get out there. So, I need to just not get so worked up about it." Dean tipped his head onto Cas' shoulder and took a deep breath.

"It's not easy for me either. There is some comfort though, in knowing that it is the same for you." He stopped for a second. "Sorry if that makes me sound cruel. I shouldn't want you to be upset, and I don't. I just kinda like that we are feeling the same things, you and I." Dean kissed him a little. His lips brushed along his collarbone.

"I'm gonna figure out how to get a bit part on your movie. I reckon that I'll last a week here at best." Dean kept kissing him until Cas got up. He walked over to a built in shelf with some drawers beneath it. "So, you had enough of me already?" Dean called over to him.

"_Au Contraire._" He pulled out a box with metal edges and walked back to Dean. Instead of sitting alongside of him, he sat in front of him, cross-legged. He set the box on the rug between them.

"Whatcha got there." Dean tapped a finger on the box.

"I was going to give this to you when I got back, along with a speech about all sorts of important things. Seems like now is a more appropriate time for this though, even without carefully practiced words." He scooped the box back up again and held it in front of him. He seemed to be looking only at Dean's hands for a time. He seemed nervous too, like something was well, and truly weighing on him.

Dean reached out to him and touched his arm. "You okay?" It seemed to be his turn to ask now.

Cas looked him in the eye now. "More than okay." He leaned across the space between them and lightly brushed his lips across Dean's. He leaned back into his space again and said, "I may not have rehearsed my words, but I wanted to say so much to you lately. I wanted you to know what you mean to me, what you always have meant to me, what you will always mean to me. I wanted you to know that without you, I would have tumbled through life without ever truly living. I would have taken jobs, and I would not have felt a thing about them. Nothing would have meant a thing."

"I feel the same way about you." Dean started to interrupt, but Cas placed a finger to Dean's lips.

"Let me finish, okay?" Dean nodded at him and Cas continued. "I loved you almost from the first. I think that you know that. I think that you also know that I have never loved anyone like I love you. I love you like a cliché . I love you like a stupid teenager. I love you like a parishioner seeking God. I am devoted to you in all ways." He opened the box, and there were two rings inside. They were identical, it seemed. Cas reached out and took Dean's hand.

"Whatcha got there?" Dean smiled at Cas and also at the box. The little silver rings caught the flickering light from the fireplace making them look almost like gold instead. Cas lifted one to Dean and let him look at the inscription on the inside. Dean read it aloud, "Yours forever."

"And I am. I know that you worry that one of these days, I'll leave and never come back, but I want you to know that you are wrong. I will never leave you. You are home to me. I love you." He slipped the ring onto Dean's finger. "Whenever I see you wearing it, I'll know that you feel the same way."

"What should we say if someone asks about it?" Dean touched the ring gingerly. It fit well, and he had no intention of taking it off.

"Tell 'em that you gorgeous boyfriend bought it for you. Or tell them it is none of their damn business. Frankly, who cares what they know or don't. This is about us." Cas had a look that seemed more intense in the firelight than it probably was.

"I'm okay with the world knowing, have been for some time. We gotta be a little careful though. We don't want this to be rough for Charlie or Meg." Dean leaned in and kissed Cas. He broke free a moment later. "I love you too, forever." Dean reached out to the box and pulled out the other ring. He slipped it onto Cas' finger. He wrapped their hands together, their fingers threaded and got up. Cas pulled him along out of the library, down the hall, and up the stairs to their room. Dean found himself stupidly grinning into each kiss as though they hadn't been doing this for years. He hadn't realized how much he had needed the reassurance, the concrete mass of words and the ring to make him feel secure.

Cas pulled away his own shirt with a single fluid motion perfected in his films. Dean grinned at that. Cas pulled Dean's shirt over his head and tossed it aside in a cascade of blue cotton. Dean grinned at that. Cas ran a finger under the knot that held Dean's flannel pants tight on his hips and pulled the knot loose. Dean grinned at that. Cas slid his own pants down along with his white boxers and stepped free of them just as Dean had stepped free of his own a moment before. Dean grinned at that. And now it was just them and a world of affection coursing between them. "Come here."

Dean moved toward him. Cas lifted him into his arms. Dean wrapped his legs around him. Dean was not light by any stretch of the imagination, but Cas was not weak. His arms were corded muscles wrapped tight around him. Dean sighed into a kiss that was less grinning this time. Cas' tongue flicked out and took over residence in Dean's mouth. He carried him to the bed managed to lean Dean down onto the mattress with a surprising degree of gentleness. "Thought you were going to have to toss me down." Dean smiled up at Cas.

"Oh, I disappointed you? I could always toss you around a little if that is what you are into." Cas dipped down to him and sucked a line down the side of his neck while his hands moved along Dean's sides.

"I have expectations, but I am far from disappointed." Dean used his legs to grab Cas and pull him into a roll. Dean was over him now and looking down, pleased.

"Next thing you know, you'll be doing your own stunts if you keep practicing moves like that." Cas ran his hands back through Dean's hair as he spoke.

"Yeah, if I ever start that porn career that I've always dreamed of, I'll have all of the stunts perfected. They laughed together into a tighter embrace, speaking less as the night grew long, comfortable with the direction that their lives seemed to be heading.

* * *

A month had passed in Georgia, but it felt like forever. Meg came by often, and that alleviated the tedium of his days. The filming was going well, and Dean knew that the picture would be well received. He was doing his best to deal with the way that the place was raising up the old memories. He learned through his talks with Benny that he maybe couldn't just push aside those thoughts. They needed to be allowed some reasonable space to play about in his mind.

He strolled along the sidewalk back to his apartment. He was photographed a few times, but it wasn't too invasive. He signed a few autographs, but he wasn't swarmed by too many people. He rounded the corner and made his way toward the looming grey building. It was, he thought, hopefully just going to be a quick pop in to change, since Meg said that she would come by and get him so that they could go out. He had given her a set of keys for the place and hoped that she was already there waiting for him.

When he finally got to his floor and stood outside of his door, he heard voices coming from within. He pulled out his keys and opened the door to find Meg sitting at his table with Charlie and Benny. "Well, look what the cat dragged in." Dean let the door close behind him. Charlie got up and came over for a hug. Benny got up too. Meg just stayed where she was. She saw Dean everyday. Dean released Charlie and popped a kiss on Benny's cheek and added a brief hug of greeting. "Can't believe you both came out here. Don't you work, Benny?"

He made his way over to the table and the others did as well. There was an unopened beer on the table sweating out some condensation. He pulled it to him as he sat, wondering who he was snagging it from. "So, you don't mind all of the surprise guests?" Benny's lips curled up into a grin.

"Mind? Shit, I welcome it. I'll take all the distraction I can get. Plus, this one," he angled his beer at Meg, "she's likely getting tired of me."

"Ha, as if. You know I like our little talks." Meg reached over and gave his arm a little squeeze. They had done a fair amount of talking lately. He had shared a lot of his feelings about Cas, about the end of things with him. She seemed to understand, having experienced her own endings in the past. They all seemed to share that commonality. _Table full of lonely people spending time together._

He looked to each of them and asked, "So, what were you all gabbing about when I came in? Sounded like you all were enjoying yourselves."

"Benny had asked about some Georgia stuff. You know, the way things ended and such." Charlie's words seemed a little too quiet, like she didn't really want to answer.

"You can take the boy out of California, but he certainly brings the interviewer with him." Dean looked across the table at Benny.

"I thought that maybe they could fill in some of the gaps. I figured that I might not get another opportunity. Plus, I wanted to know how the two of them came to an end." Benny waved a hand between Meg and Charlie. Dean could see that they were a little uncomfortable.

"Well that conversation must have been fun for you both." Dean reached a hand out to both Meg and Charlie and rested them on their arms. "Girls, meet Benny, a man of great tact." They laughed then and Benny shifted about a little awkwardly across the table.

"I didn't really think about it, geesh. Sorry." Benny got up then and retrieved a beer from Dean's fridge.

"It was fine," Charlie said. "It gave Meg and I a chance to clear the air." She reached over with her free hand and took Meg's. "I should have made contact. I really didn't know. I thought that you were just done."

"I guess in a way that I was." Meg stopped a moment and then added, "Not with you per se, but with people. I don't have, didn't have, much left in me. It's better now. Time has a way of helping with that sort of thing." Dean let them go and leaned back into his chair.

"So, what other terribly personal tidbits, did this bastard ring out of you all?" Dean smiled as he said it to let Benny know that he was okay.

The way that no one answered made Dean's smile drop away. The air felt heavy and hot. Then Benny spoke, "I may have asked about Cas' injuries on the set, and the stuff that happened after."

"Oh." Dean felt the tightening in his muscles and the firm desire to avoid looking at them. "So, you got the rest of the story. Guess, I won't need to tell you the rest now."

"No, I got a few details from your friends. It's not the same. They said that maybe I should ask you about it while they were here." Benny reached over to Charlie then and added, "She said that this part would be the most difficult for you to share, and that you would need your friends to get through it."

As if they had planned it, both Meg and Charlie took his hands that were resting on the table. "Tell him your story, Dean," Meg said.

"What do you want to know?" He knew what Benny wanted to know, but he didn't know where to begin. There were whole years missing from the narrative, happy years. It felt wrong somehow to just dive into tragedy.

"Tell me about Georgia, and then tell me about everything that came after." Benny reached over then and rested his hands on top of Dean's and Meg's and Charlie's. It was an odd bit of communion in that moment, but somehow Dean felt strength flow into him with the contact. _It doesn't have to be a tragedy. I can tell him about the good things too. What he looked like when he slept, what he sounded like when he sang in the shower, the way that his fingers moved over the plants in the garden, all of that matters too, and none of that is tragic._

* * *

Dean finally made it to Georgia with a minor role in _Perdition._ Cas had an apartment not far from the set. The studio offered him a place too, but he declined. He told them that he would just bunk with Cas and Meg, since he would only be there for the final month of filming. "Save the producers a few bucks," he had said. Meg had ducked out the moment that he had arrived at their temporary place, and Dean and Cas made the most of their reunion.

On the set, he did not have many scenes that overlapped with Cas. It was okay, though, since he was only really there to be near him and he was when they weren't filming. He stayed on the set when his scenes finished and watched the crew set up for some dramatic final scene that Cas would be in. Cas came over to him before filming, fitted with an elaborate harness. He was going to be stationed on a high beam about twenty feet up in the air. He was going to do a few choreographed fight sequences and then he was supposed to fall. Cas falling always made Dean nervous.

"You sure you should stay for this? I know how you don't like heights." Cas' low graveled voice was soothing his nerves.

"No, I should stay. I'll just be more nervous if I leave. I have an overactive imagination where you are concerned." Dean winked and Cas just laughed at him.

He leaned into Dean's ear then and whispered, "You should tell me more about this imagination of yours when we get done here." Dean did his best to look like Cas was not effecting him as Cas strode back to the crew. It was funny to Dean that none of the people around them seemed to see them for what they were. The lingering touches, the whispers, the way that they even looked at each other, all of it together seemed to spell out their relationship in big bold letters.

The sequence on the beam was going to take around an hour or two to film. Dean was sitting now across from the food services table. He considered getting a couple of snacks to tide himself over until the end. Cas was going through the first sequence. Punch, dip, dive. He was grace and fluidity. Dean liked watching the movements. They were like a dance. _Too bad you gotta be doing this up there_. Dean had to look away for a bit. He sensed that the director was about to film the first fall. He looked back as Cas took the choreographed punch that sent him back over the edge of the metal beam.

Something went wrong though. Dean jumped up. He likely would have even if it had all gone perfectly. The harness should have been strapped in such a way as to have been held in two locations. It wasn't. It was just fastened to one, and when Cas fell, the line running to him snapped down. It slid fast along the edge of the metal beam. The edge of the beam was sharp and the line did not hold. It snapped, and Cas slammed to the ground.

They were all on him. He had to shove people aside to get to him. "Cas!" His leg was twisted back in an odd angle and he was not conscious. "Cas!" He put his hands to Cas' chest to feel for signs of life.

The director was on the other side. "Call 911. Get the medic over here!"

The moments that Cas laid there, not moving, were the longest moments Dean had experienced. There had been a heartbeat and thin wisps of breath. Someone moved him, the medic, but he wedged his way back into Cas' space. An ambulance arrived and he forced his way onto it with Cas. He tried not to get in the way while the EMTs did their work. They wouldn't let him follow Cas into the interior of the hospital. He was directed to the waiting room.

He paced there, back and forth, back and forth. The clock on the wall was one of those annoying things that clicked too audibly with each second. There was a television in the corner and chairs along the walls. He couldn't sit for more than a few seconds. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he strode back and forth along the path between the chairs. No one else was in there with him. The too white walls were burning his vision, or maybe it was the tears that were threatening to spill. The door to the room banged open, and a body collided with his. He didn't move anymore, just took the embrace. It was Charlie. Meg was there too. She came to him slower.

"Tell me he's okay." She reached up and took Dean's face in her hands. "Tell me my little unicorn is okay."

"They aren't telling me anything. They wouldn't let me go in. I think that they are looking at him. It was a big fall, Meg." Dean dipped his head down a little. A single tear escaped and ran off down his cheek. He swiped at it quickly.

Charlie stepped to the door, "I'll go see what I can find out." When she left Meg wrapped her arms around him and the two of them slipped into a pair of chairs by the door.

"He'll be okay. He's Cas. He's tough as nails." She muttered.

"He is." Dean agreed. He was worried though, and so was she. They stayed like that for the better part of an hour, the ticking clock marking the time. Charlie came back having learned little. Time stretched onward. Eventually, the doctor came in, a tall, dark haired man, _too young_ Dean thought. He walked up to Meg and said, "You here for Cas Novak?"

They all stood in unison and Meg said, "We all are."

"Good then. He is conscious, and you can go in and see him, but I need to run some more tests, so it will need to be brief."

"Is he okay?" Dean broke in.

"That's what I'm checking on. His breathing was weak. I thought that he might have broken some ribs in the fall, but surprisingly, they seem to be in tack. So, I ran some blood work up to the lab. We'll be getting it back soon." He stepped back then and motioned for them to head out into the hall and to Cas.

"What do you think is wrong with his breathing?" Charlie asked as they walked down the hall.

"Not going to speculate. I think that there will be enough to deal with without too much conjecture." He pushed open a door that had big red letters on it spelling out restrictions. They followed the doctor. He pushed open a side door and beckoned them in. "You got company." He said to Cas who was hooked up to several pieces of equipment.

"Well, that'll teach me not to do my own stunt work anymore." He started to laugh and then started coughing. The machines didn't like it and set to beeping and flashing warning lights. The doctor came over to him and pushed his stethoscope to Cas' chest while taking his wrist into his hand, feeling his pulse.

"No more joking for you. Laughing is not your friend today." Dean came over and sat at Cas' side. He took Cas' hand in his. The doctor glanced at him and seemed to see the relationship for what it was.

The doctor let go of Cas' wrist and said, "I can give you all about ten minutes, then I have to run him up to the MRI."

The doctor ducked out and Dean kept holding Cas' hand. "No more stunt work for you. Scared me to death."

"Sorry, Dean." Cas gave his hand a little squeeze in return. "Didn't know I was going to fall for real."

Meg and Charlie came closer and filled in the space on the other side of the bed. "Have they told you anything yet? We haven't gotten much information." Meg ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"No, just that I broke my leg in several places and that my ribs are not broken. Having trouble breathing so they said that they might put me on a ventilator if I don't figure my shit out." Cas started to laugh and ended up coughing a little instead. It wasn't as bad as before though. Dean squeezed his hand and then tried to put on a stoic face. Cas could read him though. "Stop worrying. I'm fine."

"Coulda lost you." Dean leaned into Cas' arm and rested his forehead there. He sat back up though and added, "I'm sorry, I'll try to stop worrying."

"Good luck with that, Dean." Cas smiled at him and raised his hand to Dean's cheek. "Really, I'm going to be fine. At least I didn't land on my head. Looks like you'll be stuck hauling my sorry ass around a bit with the breaks being as bad as they are. You're going to be so sick of me."

Charlie spoke up then, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that someone was angling for a pity party." Cas looked to her with gratitude as she had lightened the mood.

"Ah, you caught me." The doctor came back in then and shooed them off. He promised them that it would be brief and that they would be summoned back to the room soon enough.

* * *

"That was how we found out." Dean got up from the table. He tossed the now empty beer bottle into the trash and came back at a slow pace, as if he were considering avoiding the rest of the story.

"What did you do?" Benny turned to him as he rounded the table and then took a seat on the edge of the couch. Meg turned too and looked at him as he answered.

"We did what we had to do. We took him home, and made the place as comfortable as possible." Dean's voice was low now.

"Did he consider fighting it. I mean, most people would do the radiation or chemo or something." Benny seemed to be getting upset.

"We did try that route for a time. It made him rather weak. Later it was determined that it wasn't making a difference. I wanted him to fight it anyway. I made him fight it. If he hadn't fallen though, we might not have known until one day he was just done. I wonder sometimes if that would have been better. Just live each day until you don't live anymore. He said that it wasn't a change that he wished for. He said that he was happy knowing that he was given a chance to put his priorities straight before the end. He said that knowing gave us a chance to make the most of things."

"And you did." Meg whispered to him as she got up and wrapped her arms around him.

"It wasn't enough. It wasn't ever going to be enough," he shuddered out and pressed his head into her shoulder. He let himself cry. He couldn't stop it now if he wanted to. "I never got to tell him enough, how much he mattered."

"You did. You did." Meg's words poured into his ear a honeyed sound, soothing and quiet. Her hand rubbed his back and she swayed a little while they stood there.

Charlie came over then too. "He knew how much you loved him. We all did. And we knew how much he loved you. In the end, that is what mattered the most."

The evening descended and Benny offered to go get them some food. When he left, Dean claimed exhaustion and slipped off to his room, closing the door behind him as he went in. He just needed to be alone with his thoughts for a few moments. He thought of promises made and kept. He thought of promises broken. He rubbed the place on his finger where his ring use to rest. It had filled back out and no longer had the tell-tale dent anymore. He realized then that the promise that weighed most heavily on him was the one that he made silently everyday. The promise that he would love him forever, love him more than anything or anyone. It was a promise held in secret, and if it were a secret, how could he really believe that he loved him enough?

* * *

They lay in the bed now. The room is quiet save only for the ragged breathing that is coming from Cas. Dean's hand has been holding onto Cas' hand in between them for the better part of an hour. He let go and moved his hand up to Cas' cheek. He just wanted to smooth away the lines of pain that seem to be forming there. His eyes fluttered a little, as Dean's touch slowly drew him back to consciousness. "Got tired of me sleeping?"

"No. I'm sorry. You just looked like you were hurting. Go back to sleep." Dean ran his thumb over Cas' cheek one last time before moving his hand back to the middle of the bed, back to Cas' hand.

Cas' eyes were open now, though. He squinted a little. It was still early enough that the sun had not yet set and the room had some small amount of light in it. "I was dreaming."

"Was it a bad dream? You looked unhappy." Dean was stretched out on the comforter while Cas was cocooned within the blankets. He scooted closer a little.

"No, it was actually a good dream. I am hurting a little though. Maybe my face was showing it." Cas never complained about the pain, so Dean knew that it was bad. He got up and wandered over to the bathroom. He pulled out some of the tablets that Cas had been prescribed for pain. He knew that Cas would put up a fight; he always did. Dean was resolved though to have none of that.

He filled a cup with water and, with the pills clutched in his other hand, made his way back over to the bed. He set them down on the nightstand and reached under Cas' shoulders to raise him up into a sitting position. "Here." He put the pills into Cas' mouth then he raised the glass to his lips. Cas did not fight him for once. _Finally._ Then a tiny part of Dean crumbled a little as he realized what that meant. Cas always fought when he could. _It must be so bad, and he is not telling me._ He had to push down the tidal wave of emotions that were stirring up. If Cas knew how much this upset him, he would likely make a greater effort toward not taking the pain meds.

"I don't like these. They make everything unclear. I want to know what is happening, and I can't do it if I take these." Cas was slipping back down into the bed as Dean returned the glass to the nightstand.

"I know, but you don't want to be in pain either. I don't like seeing you hurting." Cas nodded to Dean as he said this. Dean added, "Thank you for not fighting me on this one."

"Anything for you." Cas smiled and Dean laughed at him.

"Cheesy, Cas."

"I try." Dean slipped back down onto the bed now too. They laid facing each other. Dean's hand found Cas' again. After a time, Cas said, "I want to go to the beach."

"You always were a cheesy fan of long walks on the beach."

"And midnight swims." He took in a deep breath and added, "Don't forget the best parts." Dean felt a lump rise up in his throat. The tone that Cas used made him think that maybe he was telling him not to forget even after he was gone. Dean looked at him for a long while, taking in all of the features that he would never be able to forget.

"How could I forget any of it?"

"So, we can go to the beach?"

Dean wondered how that could even remotely be accomplished. Just moving Cas from the bed to the other side of the room was sometimes too much. A trip to the beach seemed almost impossible. Lately, though, he had started making promises, planning future things with Cas that they both knew were impossible. There was a trip to Paris, a road trip to South Dakota, a play in L.A. that they would see and so much more that Dean had promised to Cas. "Of course."

Cas looked upset. "No, I mean for real." Cas moved closer and Dean pulled him into a sideways hug.

"I don't think that you can do it just yet. If you have a day where you feel stronger, then we could consider it."

"I want to go to the beach, and I won't feel stronger." He pushed at Dean's chest a little like he was trying to get away. He was too weak though. Dean slipped back and looked down at his face.

"You'll get stronger. You can't give up." Dean said it with conviction.

"We both know that I won't get stronger. Please, take me to the beach. I want to see it again."

"Would you settle for the desert sands just outside the window?" Dean was trying to keep his emotions in check. He was trying not to think about the loss that he would soon have to live with. Truth be told, he was not convinced yet that he would choose to live with it. He did not share that though. No sense in worrying anyone, least of all Cas.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I know that I ask for too much. The desert will do. Could you take me over to the window. I want to watch our sky as the sun sets." Dean nodded and got up. He angled the wheelchair over on Cas' side of the bed and lifted him over to it with ease. Cas did not weigh much anymore. His body had thinned so much that Dean sometimes worried that just the barest touch could break him.

Dean crouched down in front of Cas before taking him to the veranda. "Cas, you know that I'd do anything for you. You can never ask for too much. You can ask me for the world, and it wouldn't be too much. I'll give you your beach. I just need to figure out how we can do it without it exhausting you too much." He leaned toward Cas' fingers clutching the wheelchair's armrest, and he pressed a kiss to them. "Give me a few days."

"You are too good to me."

"Right back at you." He got up and pushed Cas' chair to the tall glass doors and opened them. He wheeled Cas out onto the veranda and angled him so that he could see the sunset. He took a seat next to Cas and held his hand as the desert landscape took on the look of a deep, red fire that seemed to come at the end of each day. They sat there in silence. Dean looked at Cas who was looking out to the horizon. His face was glowing with the retreating sunlight. He looked almost magical, like a Phoenix preparing to end and begin again. Dean caught his breath. "I love you as much today as I did back then."

"I love you too." Cas turned to him. He looked like he might cry. His eyes were sparkling. "I'm yours forever." Cas' fingers traced the ring on Dean's finger, reminding him of the inscription that was on the inside of each of theirs, hidden from the world, only known to each other.

"I wish we had been luckier." Dean whispered to him.

"I feel very lucky. I lived a good life."

"It isn't long enough. I feel like we are getting cheated out of so much. I need to grow old with you, Cas." He felt bad immediately. He knew that Cas didn't need to deal with his emotional turmoil on top of everything else. It was too late to erase the words though, so he fell silent and just stared down at their hands together on the armrest.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Dean couldn't look at him when he said this. He just kept looking at the now frail hand that he held. It use to be so strong. It use to have more grip to it. It blurred a little as he stared at it. He felt the first splash of a tear and quickly wiped it away with the back of his other hand.

"I'm sorry. You don't need this right now."

"Stop trying to protect me, Dean. You can say whatever you need to say. You don't need to sugarcoat things with me. With me, you get to be real. Remember, we promised each other that we would always be that for each other. No lies, no made up stuff, just the real deal for each other, always." He reached out and brushed away more tears from Dean's face. "We could never have had enough time together. Me dying now versus later...well, it wouldn't change a thing. I would love you. You would love me, and in the end one of us would be gone. Time is the only difference." Dean crumbled then and let out a sob that seemed to shake him to his core. He moved from his seat to the floor at Cas' feet. He rested his head on Cas' lap and felt the gentle press of Cas' hand on his head, smoothing back his hair. "It'll be okay, Dean. I'm not going anywhere just yet."

Cas' words did not provide comfort, but the crying was necessary. He had felt it building up inside him for sometime. When he could carve out a moment alone, sometimes he would let go a little. In those moments though, he would only cry a little. He had feared what would happen if he just let himself feel. "Don't leave me, Cas. Please don't leave me." He wept and wept. He was trying to reign it in. He was trying not to let it control him. Cas pressed his fingers into the lines of distress that formed at the edges of his eyes. He seemed to be trying to press them back. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas in the seat. He could feel the protruding bones no longer blanketed by muscle. The flesh that he felt was delicate and thin, the bones fragile and brittle. He felt Cas shiver, and he looked up to see that he was noticeably cold. His lips were a little blueish and his hands shook a little. "Let me get you back inside." Dean got up.

Cas grabbed his hand before he could wheel him in. "Did it help a little to let it out?"

"I don't know. I still feel like shit. Now I suspect that you feel like shit too, so maybe no." Dean moved to the back of the chair and wheeled it in. He lifted Cas back into the bed and pulled the covers up around him.

"Will you stay with me 'til I fall asleep?" Cas had eyes that seemed to plead even when he wasn't.

"Of course, Cas." Dean sat at the edge of the bed, and now he fell to stroking Cas' forehead and hair. He hummed a quiet melody that he hoped was soothing. Cas smiled and drifted off into sleep.

* * *

**Review, Fav., Follow, Rec.**

**AN: This is the penultimate chapter. That sounds ludicrous. Ah, well. Hope that you all enjoyed (is that the right word for this) this chapter. I had been building to this reveal for so long that I almost didn't want to write it out yet. A big thank you to my constant reviewers, particularly .SPNfangirl1965 for the really really kind words. I needed the encouragement to continue writing and you provided it. Thanks also to mskittyk and pyroleigh for the encouragement. Big thanks to rainystv too. You are too kind. I am trying to get back into the right mindset for DDD and hope to find that headspace when this fic is done. Thank you so much for caring. I appreciate it. For those that want to read it, I posted a tiny ficlet for the destiaww thing that was happening on tumblr over the weekend. It is called "A Little Slice of Paradise." It's happy and short, so it might help with the feels generated by this chapter. 'Til the last chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Final Chapter

**Trigger Warning: Issues of suicide raised.**

* * *

"Charlie had mentioned that the end was exceedingly difficult for all of you." Benny had a glass of orange juice sitting in front of him. Charlie and Meg had gone out for coffee and conversation. "She told me about some of the most difficult times from after he passed."

"I'm surprised that she would. She tends to avoid that topic." Dean had a cup of coffee steaming away in front of him. He wrapped his hand around it, the warmth filling his palm, reminding him of Cas somewhat. Everything reminded him of Cas. "Did she talk about the pills?"

"Yes." Benny reached over and took Dean's other hand. "I'm glad she was there."

Dean didn't look at him, but he said, "Well, the jury's still out on whether or not I'm going to agree with that statement." He looked at Benny then. "Sorry. I know that it is harsh, but it's true."

"I understand. I'm still glad though." He took a sip of his juice and reached for his pack of cigarettes. He looked around the room, seeming to scout about for the best place to smoke. He eventually got up and walked over to the window. He pulled it open fully and sat next to it. Dean picked up his coffee and walked over to him. Dean sat across from him while he lit his cigarette, blowing the first cloud out the window. "I need to quit."

"Yes, you do." Dean took the cigarette from him and put it to his own lips. He took a long drag from it, then handed it back. "Me too." He leaned toward the window and blew the smoke out into the world. "I quit once for Charlie. I didn't really smoke much when Cas was alive. A little here and there, but not what I would call a habit. When he got the cancer, I gave it up entirely, not even an occasional slip. I didn't want to do anything that could make it worse for him."

"Did you pick the habit back up after he passed or something?" Benny leaned toward the window, watching Dean form his answer. Drag, exhale, and then Dean took the cigarette from him and did the same.

"It was never a habit. It was a choice, like the pills. I could have stopped at any time. I don't need to smoke this even now." He held the cigarette back out to Benny. "I'm addicted to what it means, what it could mean. It's the reason that Charlie doesn't want me doing this."

"What did it mean to you?" Benny stubbed out the cigarette on the inside of the window frame well before it was finished.

"It meant that I was giving up." Benny raised an eyebrow to him in question. "I thought that if I smoked enough that maybe I could follow in his footsteps."

"Was this after your other plans failed?"

"Yes. I believed that it would hurt Charlie less if I ended up getting sick. I know now that I was being stupid. Charlie set me right when she figured out what I was doing. No one should have to watch someone that they care about dying. We romanticize death in the movies and on T.V. I know; I've made enough of them. It is quick and those that are left behind grieve fast and furious before they move on. That's bullshit. I know what it is to grieve and I know that I can't do that to her or Meg. Even Sam had to be considered.

"Cas would have wanted you to live." Benny got up and moved back to the table where he finished off his juice.

"Yeah, he would. I wanted him to live too. We don't all get what we want."

"Were you always this cynical?" Benny asked in a way that wasn't accusatory, just inquisitive, so Dean answered.

"Not once Cas started living with me. He was a good influence, a role model even. I was also happy then, so it was easy to push aside my cynicism. I don't have to do that now."

"Will you tell me about the end?" Benny was watching Dean in a way that made Dean feel like there was only one answer, and honestly, he had already told so much. Might as well finish the story.

"Sure. Just don't expect much. I mean, it was just a long, slow death. No sudden final words or any of that. Just one day he was here and then he wasn't." Benny nodded at Dean and remained silent as Dean seemed to be collecting his thoughts.

* * *

Getting to the beach was going to be difficult. He had managed to slip out to the pharmacy earlier to pick up more meds. He worried that Cas would be in pain during the drive, not that his trip to the pharmacy really had anything to do with that. What he didn't count on was the encounter with Charlie as he walked in. It had been like she had been waiting for him.

"So, where have you been?" She walked up to him and pulled the bag from his hands. He tried to retrieve it, but she turned too swiftly. She looked in and pulled out the pill containers.

"I was just picking up meds for Cas. We're taking him to the beach, and I don't want him to hurt." Dean reached out for the bag, but Charlie did not hand it over.

"No, that is not what this is. That is not what this is by 500 miles, Dean." She started to pass him and go up the stairs.

"Where are you going? What the Hell, Charlie." He grabbed her arm and tried to spin her around. She did not turn though. She squirmed out of his grip and started rushing up the stairs. Dean looked up at her a little shocked, then he followed her. She stormed into his and Cas' room, and Dean felt a little panic rush up through him.

"Shit, shit, shit." He caught up with her in the room. Cas was sleeping, but when they entered he opened his eyes weakly.

He looked at Dean and was about to say something when he noticed Charlie. She was in the bathroom, pulling out the contents of the medicine cabinet. There were pill bottles flying out into the room. Dean tried to stop her. She looked like the personification of rage. Her face was tear streaked; her face was as red as her hair and the vast desert around them at sunset. She was fire and righteous indignation, and Dean was a little afraid of her in that moment. "You want to explain this, Dean? You want to talk about this?" She pushed past him into his closet and started shoving his clothes aside.

Dean knew where he had hidden them. She was looking in the wrong spot, so he had deniability on his side, and he channeled that into irritation when he spoke. "I don't know what you are up to, but this is ridiculous. You've woken up Cas and now you are throwing everything. I think that you need to leave and get your head screwed on straight." She moved then to the back of the closet and the tiny set of knick-knack drawers there. He sucked in a breath and moved into the closet with her. He reached for her as she pulled the drawer out, but he was too late.

She stood there with the drawer pulled out all the way and now hanging in her hand. The contents spilling onto the rug. More pill containers. She dropped it and pulled out the next one. Dean had given up fighting her now. There were a few more in there. He didn't know why he had gone so far overboard in his collecting of them. He knew that he wouldn't need so much, but he had done it just the same. He had figured that it might require a lot to be sure that it went as he wanted it to go. He felt movement behind him. He turned and there was Cas. He looked like he was struggling to stay upright, so Dean quickly threw an arm around him. Cas leaned into him.

"I don't understand. What's going on?" His voice was strained and tired. Dean kissed his head, breathing in through his hair. He hoped that Charlie would let the situation die. Explaining this to Cas was cruel. It was bad enough that he was slowly fading out of existence; he didn't need to know that Dean planned to fade out after him.

Charlie did not let it die though. She walked up close to the two of them and asked Cas, "How often do you need your pain meds?"

"Not often. Maybe once a month or so," Cas muttered out as his gaze seemed to take in the mess of pills. He had not put it together though, yet. Dean was holding onto a dim hope that he just wouldn't.

"Come on, Charlie. Let's go downstairs and talk about this. Cas doesn't need this drama." He started to pull Cas back into the room, to the bed. He could feel Cas stiffen though.

"Dean, what is happening here?" He lifted his hand weakly and held it out over the piles of orange containers heaped up at their feet.

"Nothing, Cas. It's nothing. Everything is fine. Charlie is just having a rough day." He tried again to pull Cas along. Charlie was shaking and crying, but she was not yelling anymore. Cas did not let himself get pulled. It must have taken a reserve of strength to resist Dean's pull. He could just reach down and scoop Cas up, carry him out of the space, but somehow he knew that that would be wrong.

Cas repeated his question from before, but this time his voice was shaking with the effort and perhaps the realization of what was happening. "Dean, what's happening here?"

Charlie slugged at Dean's arm and yelled into the intervening quiet of the room, "Answer him, Dean. Answer us, God damnit."

Dean moved Cas over to Charlie and she took him into her arms, held him up. Dean stepped away from them, back into the bedroom. He created distance, and now that Charlie had Cas, she couldn't hit him. "You already know. I don't need to say it. Is it really some great mystery? Did you really think that I would want to keep living after he was gone? I mean, my God, why would I want to do that?" He was looking at Charlie. He couldn't look at Cas.

"Damnit, Dean. Did it ever occur to you that you matter to a whole bunch of us. You matter to me, to Meg. What about Sam? You can't just leave us." Charlie was angry still when she spoke, but the tone was quieter now. Dean stole a look at Cas who was staring down at the pills. His breathing seemed to be labored.

"You'll be fine," he finally said.

She repeated, "You can't just leave us."

"I can if he can." He felt petty and stupid saying it, but it was a reflection of his decision making over the past several months.

Cas finally spoke. "No, Dean. You don't get to do that."

"You don't get a say in this." Dean turned away from him though. He couldn't take the look on his face.

"I think that I do. Charlie doesn't deserve this blatant disregard. You think that your life doesn't matter, that it is not worth preserving? You matter. Not just to me, to us, but to anyone that has met you. You don't get to do this. I need to know that you lived even if I am dying. I need to know that you kept on carrying me with you. It matters. Otherwise it is like what we had and have dies with us. I need you to live, please."

Dean marched out of the room. He couldn't lie to Cas. He couldn't tell him that he would live if he wouldn't. He couldn't tell him the truth either, though. So, he left. He went out the back door and into the desert. He practically threw himself down the path. He was breathing in ragged breaths with each step. It wasn't supposed to go this way. They weren't supposed to know. It would have been so much simpler. He had a plan. _Fucking Charlie._ He knew that he really had no right being angry with her. What she did was out of love. He couldn't handle it though. _I made my God damn choice._ He shook as he thought it and marched still farther along the path. He came to the edge of their property and considered going on. The path ended though, and the sand was loose. It would fill his shoes and be uncomfortable. The thought calmed him somehow, like getting sand in his shoes was really the biggest issue that he was facing.

He turned back to the house. He looked at the space around him. The little plants that Cas had tenderly placed here and there were flourishing. Some of the plants had magenta flowers on them. He was always surprised when the flowers bloomed in the desert. He couldn't help but thinking each time, _they have no business here._ Cas had nurtured them, and they had grown. Cas had nurtured him, and he had grown. He had not been out here in a while. He knew that Meg had been tending to the plants. She would read to Cas too. Sometimes Charlie would come out here with her. Things had become strained between them. Meg was growing quiet. She only seemed to perk up for Cas. It was something that Dean understood, and when Meg would drift out here, sometimes he would go too. They would brood in silence together.

Dean would have said that her brightness around Cas was an act, but it wasn't. She was genuine with him, otherwise he would call her on it, make her put on her real face. Cas didn't put up with bullshit. He knew that there would be Hell to pay once he went back in the house. His choices would not be ignored or accepted. Cas would beg. He would extract promises that Dean felt certain he couldn't keep. The guilt would be too much for him. He struggled to gain control of his emotions. He was angry and so entirely upset by the current situation. Watching Cas day in and day out as he slowly faded away was killing him slowly too. He felt his life draining out of him with each stumbling breath that Cas took. He listened to the air passing from him in the morning and at night. Sometimes he would just lay there for hours watching him breathe, counting out the moments in breaths rather than in seconds.

He would even do this when Cas was gone, he thought. He could imagine laying in the bed counting out the breaths that were no longer there. They would be his own now. He would count them as they slowed. He would count them through the tunnel of darkness that would frame his vision as he finally closed his eyes for the last time. He imagined this and, yet as he stood in Cas' garden, he felt guilty. It was a growing feeling, and he knew that it would have to be addressed. He slumped down into the path, legs curled up beneath him. He let time pass and did not move as the sun crept slowly along its path.

Meg came out of the back door, basket and garden tools in hand. She saw him, but came over anyway. She found a spot not far from him and began digging a little hole in the earth with her spade. "Planting a Dean tree in the path?"

"Yep."

"Hmm. Wanna help dig a hole or two?"

"Kay." He reached over and took the spare spade that she held out to him. "Charlie send you out here or was it Cas?"

"Neither. Why?" She looked at him a little confused.

"No reason." He dug out a six inch by six inch hole that dipped down about a foot and a half. She passed him one of her plants. He knew to loosen the roots as he pulled it from the plastic pot.

"You fightin' with Charlie and Cas or something? You look all sorts of guilty." She was loosening her own plant with gentle fingers.

"Not exactly." He knew that she would find out eventually, but he was reluctant to share. He'd rather avoid and have her find out behind his back.

"You know, Cas should get a pass for whatever has got you so angry. Dude has cancer." She pushed her plant into the hole and got up to go back toward the house for the soil bag.

Dean got up and moved ahead of her though. "Here, let me get it. And I'm not mad at Cas. I'm never mad at Cas." He walked off to the house and hefted the soil bag up onto his shoulder, little specks of dirt fell out of it onto his clean white tee shirt. He got back to Meg and tossed the bag down near where they were working.

"Sometimes I am." She looked at Dean with a serious crease to her brows.

"Sometimes you are what?" Dean sat back down beside her.

"Mad at him. Like why did he have to go and get cancer? Why did he have to smoke so damn much? Why is he leaving me and us? It's not fair." She rattled off the string of questions that Dean had dwelt on everyday since they had first learned of Cas' prognosis.

"It's not his fault."

"Doesn't matter. I'm still mad. I'm mad at him, because I have no one else that I could be mad at. Should I rail against the universe, the stars, a god that I don't even pray to? He is tangible and here, so I am mad at him." She scooped dirt out of the bag and tipped it from the spade onto the underside of the plant. She repeated the move.

"You don't tell him all of that do you?" Dean scooped as Meg did. His moves mirrored hers.

"Oh, hell no. You are the lucky winner of truth talk with Meg today. I can't even tell Charlie this shit. She is too wrapped up in protecting everyone and being her own brand of sad." She started digging another hole for a small flowering shrub. She nodded to the ground near Dean, telling him where to dig next. "She cries a lot. She's worried about you too. I told her that I want to move after all of this is over. She looked at me like I was crazy."

"Where would you go?"

"Anywhere. Not here."

Dean hadn't considered the fact that Cas' death changed the need for all of them living as they had. If they moved he would well and truly be alone. _I could do what I want then._ He dug the hole for the next plant. "I'm sorry. I know that it hasn't been easy."

She looked at him then. "Oh, Dean. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" She stopped and just dug in the hole some more.

"Don't be sorry. This is the most normal conversation I've had in ages. I hate all of the _everything is fine crap. _I'm so done. I'm ready to just do what I need to do. Ya know?" He was going on, and he was digging roughly now.

"Dean?"

He stopped digging and looked up at her. "What?"

She was crying now. "I don't want him to die. I'd rather it was me a thousand times."

He moved over to her in one fluid motion and said, "I know. I know. I know." She was curled up into his chest. Her face was soaking the front of his shirt. Her gasps and sobs muffled by his body. He couldn't help but to cry a little with her.

"There's so much that we all need to do to see. You know. He needs to be here for all of it." She was choking on her words.

"I know," he mumbled out again. Then he added, "There's things that I wanna experience differently than I have before, or maybe for the first time. I wanna do those things with him. I want to share all of that with him, and I won't get that. It kills me, Meg. It kills me everyday."

She didn't move from his arms, but she looked up at him and said, "I know." It was as though it was her turn to comfort now. There was silence for a spell. Dean could feel his body shaking a little around her. It wasn't cold out, but he felt like his body couldn't take in any of the warmth. She whispered quietly, "We have to keep him alive for as long as we can."

"How long do you think that we can do that for? One month, maybe two at the outside if his body is any indication. He is dropping weight so fast, I don't know how he even gets enough energy to move out of bed."

"I'm willing to keep him alive for as long as I'm alive. I'm guessing I can give him a good forty or fifty years if I start living right. How 'bout you?" He looked at her, and saw what she was getting at. "I can't do it alone though. That's too much to carry alone. I wonder sometimes if that is why Charlie's sadness is so much more profound than any of us probably realized before. I think that she worries over how much she will have to carry alone."

He did not respond right away. Eventually, though, he took a long slow breath and said,"Yeah. I'm just starting to think that maybe there's more to it all than I thought." He rubbed her back a little in the space between her shoulder blades. She squeezed up against him closer now, resting her head on his chest and looking out past him to the desert. "I'm sorry Meg."

"Don't be sorry. Talk to Charlie, though. She needs you too."

"I'm afraid," he admitted in a quiet voice.

"I know." She reached out and held his free hand. They stayed like that for a time, and when the sun had begun to set, they slowly picked themselves up from the ground and walked back into the quiet, dark house.

* * *

He had not been able to talk to Benny about the last moments. They were there though, none the less, dancing about in his mind. Benny understood, and, for once, didn't press. He seemed to be willing to let Dean grieve and remember as he wished. He finished filming in Georgia and was on a plane home within two months. Benny had left some time before, but Meg and Charlie were there 'til the end.

Meg had decided that a trip out to California would be therapeutic and bought a plane ticket with Dean. Charlie would be traveling with them. Dean had worried that it might be awkward between them, but they talked with each other like old friends. Charlie even shared a little about Dorothy. Meg seemed comfortable with the way that things were. Gradually, Dean let go of his own worries about them.

When they got back to the house, Dean made his way, immediately, up to his room. there is nothing so comforting as one's own bed after a long stretch away from it. He walked around to his side and threw himself into his divot. "Georgia. Seriously, you never prepared me for the fuckin' humidity. I swear it was like 90% water I was breathing." He rolled over in the bed and stretched out his hand to the space at his side. "I went to Edlund's Bistro and ordered one of those sweet teas that you said were awesome, but I was like _hell no; I'm not drinking one of those foo-foo girly teas._" He laughed quietly. "They're hella good. You were right." He laughed a little and got up. He made his way out to the back yard through his veranda. He wandered down to the path and directly toward the garden.

As he walked he squeezed his hand open and closed at his side. "Yeah, it has been busy. I don't know if I want to make anymore movies." He walked up one rise and then down into a dip. The path wound around and then he was at the wall. He slipped in and walked to the bench. He took a seat there. "I'm going to take a road trip to South Dakota." He paused then continued. "I know, finally, huh. Gonna go see Rushmore and the big park with all of the buffalos that you went on about. I'll never get why you were so excited about them. They're just big fluffy cows." Dean rubbed his hands together in front of him. The silver ring caught the sunlight.

"Yeah, I'm wearing it. Sue me." He let out a little chuckle. "My gorgeous boyfriend got it for me." He fiddled with it a little. "Yep, even at the end. You were always beautiful to me." He looked at the spot beside him, like he was seeing something there. "Forever." And he reached out then and rested his hand there, where another hand should have been.

He thought of the last moments, of laying by his side. He thought about the promises that Cas managed to extract from him the day before the beach trip. "You have to live Dean. Promise me you'll live." And because it seemed the least selfish thing to do, he promised. He could have changed his mind later, and there were several containers of pills in his closet that left that option open, but he knew that he couldn't do that to Cas, or to the others. Promises matter. He promised Cas forever and he was sticking with it.

He let himself remember. It was not something that he allowed himself often. It was too much most days, but today, it seemed appropriate to think of the beach and Cas and how much it all meant.

* * *

Dean remembered watching him sleep on the last day. He had taken to doing that often. Cas was in pain, but he did not let it show. They had managed to get him to the beach. He had been so happy. Dean had rented a large van that could accommodate Cas' wheelchair. They had left in the early morning. Dean drove and Cas had been lifted into the passenger seat. Meg and Charlie sat behind them, and the wheelchair was in the back. Dean had overpacked. He had every conceivable object for Cas' comfort. On the way there, he had asked Cas what he most wanted to do.

"I want to feel the sand on my feet and hear the waves doing their wavy thing." Dean had laughed at him.

"Coulda given you sand at home, and a garden hose for the splashy sounds." Dean had smiled over at him to make sure that he didn't take it wrong.

"Nothing but trouble huh? Bet you didn't realize what you signed up for when you went out for burgers with me that night."

"Best decision ever." He had reached over and found Cas' hand. "Hopefully we can get a little tan on you."

"Yeah, I'm not sure that I am okay with this pasty look. Clearly, I spend too much time indoors." His eyes fluttered closed a little and Dean wondered if he had fallen asleep until he spoke again, "I'm going to try to rest up for the main event. Wake me when we get there."

"You got it." Dean had driven on, and Charlie and Meg had carried on their own quiet conversation in the back. They did not arrive at the beach for another hour and twenty. The early morning departure time seemed to aid in the travel time. The traffic would be much worse later. Dean found a spot to park the van. The whole lot faced out to the water. The beach was mostly empty. There were early morning surfers already out on the water and a few tell-tale signs of life here and there. A jogger passed the front of the van with a walkman strapped to her waistband.

"I should get one of those." Dean said out loud.

Cas was awake now and looking at him. "You're already replacing me? With a jogging woman?"

"No, a walkman. One that straps to your sweats."

"Replaced by technology then. Wow."

"Yep, Cas, it was only a matter of time." He unstrapped his seatbelt and asked, "You ready to go see your ocean?"

"Ready."

Dean got out and Charlie helped him unload the wheelchair. Meg lifted Cas out of the car. It didn't take much strength to manage him now. He weighed somewhere just shy of 100 pounds. She was careful with him as she brought him to the wheelchair and gently deposited him in it. "I could probably just carry you around the beach if you want. I don't see how we are going to push this thing in the sand."

"Never underestimate the power of a Winchester." Dean said as he took the handles of the chair and pushed the thing ahead. It immediately got stuck. They all laughed at the look of irritation forming on Dean's face. He was determined though and pushed harder, digging in the wheels with all of his effort.

Charlie had made her way to his side with a laugh. "The wheelchair is not going to work. We'll need to carry him."

"You mind taking care of the wheelchair while I carry him out to sea?" He leaned down to the front of the chair and rested his forehead against Cas'. "So gonna toss you in for this Novak."

"Like to see you try Winchester."

"Don't tempt me." He scooped up Cas and carried him out to the water. They stopped just shy of the waterline, and Dean gently set Cas down. He reached out to Cas' shoes and began unlacing them. He pulled them off and set them to the side. Cas wiggled his feet about in the sand. Dean smiled at him. He reached out with a handful of sand and slowly let it fall from his fingers over Cas' feet. They both watched the sand. Dean felt Mazatlan surrounding them despite the early morning cold that came with mornings on the California coast. He reached out to his own shoes and untied them. He toed them off and then set them next to Cas' shoes.

Cas wiggled his toes towards Dean's and brought their feet into contact beneath the sand. "I've missed these types of moments."

"Yeah. I'm glad you made us do this. You're a forceful bastard, but you were right." Dean was cascading sand onto Cas' hand now. "I love you."

"Love you too." They watched each other and occasionally the sand and surf. Charlie and Meg did not join them. They instead walked up the beach together.

A larger wave curled up onto the beach and crept slowly up the slope of sand. It stopped moving up just inches from their feet . It was a little exhilarating to sit there trusting that it wouldn't get all the way to them. "You doing okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." Dean really looked at him then. _I'm fine_ was rarely a truthful statement, but Cas actually looked fine. Dean moved over to his side and buried his hand in the sand next to Cas. He let his fingers scurry over to him from under the grains until they were twined up together.

"Maybe we should have bought a beach house." Dean mused out loud.

"Maybe."

"Any regrets?"

"A few. I'd rather not worry about those things though." He looked at Dean and smiled. His eyes carried a shine that reminded Dean of the ocean in a way. There was a depth there in that moment that made him feel like he could sink into them. A crisp wind blew in from the water. The thin wisps of wet air swirled up around them.

"Do you ever wish that I had been different?"

"That's a funny question."

"Not really. You know I come up with all sorts of funny ideas about things."

Cas looked at him like he was trying to read him. "I wish sometimes that I hadn't made you fall in love with me. That's a little difference, but I don't think of it often."

"Kinda glad you can't follow through on your silly wishes." Dean leaned over and rested his head on Cas' shoulder. He was careful not to put too much weight there. "I hope you know that you are it for me."

"I hope that's not true. I want you to be happy. You need people or at least one someone." He felt Cas push a kiss to his head.

"I've got Charlie and Meg. I'm fine." Dean couldn't imagine anyone filling Cas' role. It was sacred ground and it should not be tampered with.

"They might not be enough." Cas seemed to say on a sigh.

Dean tipped back and looked at Cas. "I don't need anyone filling the gap that you are going to leave behind." He reached out and felt Cas' arm. "You're cold. Here." He took off his coat and draped it over Cas' shoulders.

"Thanks, Dean."

* * *

The day at the beach ended up being the hour at the beach, and even that was likely too long. Dean carried Cas back up to their room and gently put him in the bed. He helped him get undressed and pulled the covers up to his chin like he always requested. Dean came around to his side and laid down there facing him. "You happy?"

"Hmm." Cas was already slipping off into sleep. "It was like Mazatlan, but with less swimming. We should go swimming next." Cas mumbled through barely parted lips. Dean reached out to him and ran his hand through Cas' hair.

"I should put in a pool for us."

"Nah, I want to swim in the ocean."

"Seriously, Cas, you're driving me mad."

Cas laughed a little with his eyes still closed. "Need to make sure you remember the important things. You need to carry the good things with you too. Otherwise, I'll just be the burden that I've been at the end."

Dean had felt his breathing hitch up in his chest. He slipped closer to Cas and wrapped an arm around him. "You've never been a burden. Never." Cas just smiled and slept. Dean eventually let him go and just watched him. He had counted the breaths. They slowed and then the pause between them became long. He reached out and put his hand to Cas' chest, feeling for the heartbeat that drummed out hope and promises. There was nothing. Instead of calling out, or trying for some miracle resurrection through C.P.R. he just curled up close to him, pulling Cas' arm over him. Dean breathed in and out into the space between his face and Cas' chest. He felt the first splash of a tear fall from his cheek. He breathed still more. He breathed for both of them now.

* * *

He gave the bench beside himself a little pat. Charlie was standing out on the veranda. "You coming in anytime soon, Dean? Benny's here."

Dean called back up to her, "Be in in a sec." He got up and slowly walked back to the house. It was the anniversary, two years since he passed. Dean still prayed to him, every night. It wasn't always sad though. Sometimes it was just his own random musings. It didn't matter so much though, what he talked about. What mattered was the talking, the living, the breathing. In those moments he shared all of that with Cas. He mounted the stairs to his home. He wandered through his room, down the hall and back down to the ground floor, where he heard their voices.

They had made a point of all being together tonight. Somehow it would make things easier for all of them. Meg already had the T.V. on. She had said that she couldn't watch the ceremony before. It had still been too fresh. Now they all sat in the living room waiting for Charlie to pop in the V.C.R tape of their speech from the awards ceremony.

She set the tape and then came back to the couch, wedging herself between Dean and Meg. Benny sat on Dean's other side. Charlie aimed the remote at the T.V. and hit play. The orchestra played them onto the stage. It was surreal watching himself walking with Charlie like that. He let his mind draw back a little from the screen. He felt Benny's hand move over his. It was enough of a distraction for him to get through this. He saw himself struggling with the speech, but Charlie took over. It was not likely obvious to the crowds that what they were seeing was different from what had been rehearsed.

Then the video played. He saw himself looking away. The camera cut from him and Charlie to just the video. A large picture of Cas was on the screen, beneath him were the words _In Memoriam._ There was music. He hadn't remembered the music. It played over a montage of stills from Cas' film career. There had been a video of him talking about falling in love. It had been about Dean, but the world awwed thinking it was about Meg. The world would know soon enough, just who Cas had been talking about. Benny had written their story. He had written truth, and it would be on the stands in the morning. Charlie leaned into him as the video of Cas came to a close. The camera cut back to Dean.

He spoke to the camera. Dean tuned it out and closed his eyes. He did not need to re-experience this moment. He knew what he felt. He knew that the words tomorrow would be far more true than a speech that moved an audience, a speech in which Dean called Cas his buddy and his friend. Benny had told him that he had seen more in that speech, a profound bond between Cas and Dean. Dean could not see how, but he accepted it none the less. He didn't quite tune out the last words though.

"They call us stars, but Cas really was. He was something bright and glorious lighting our nights, whether you saw him as his friends saw him, or in the dark, magical confines of the theater. He was an actor like no other. He brought us beauty and loneliness with just the slightest quirk of a brow. He would smile and you would all fall for whatever he was selling, be it cops or robbers, angels or demons. I am grateful that the world will get to revisit that smile again and again in his films. He brought us so much in such a short time. He left us too soon, but I for one, feel blessed that I met him, that he took the time for me." Dean raised his fingers to his lips and then held them up over his head. "I love you, buddy. See you soon."

Meg spoke to the screen, "See you in forty, Cas."

Charlie spoke then, "See you in fifty, Cas."

Meg looked at her. "It's not a competition ya know?" They laughed a little then. Dean got up. Charlie had paused the tape. The still image of Cas was frozen to the side of the screen. He walked up to it and pressed his hand to it. Years didn't matter. Time seemed to pass quickly. What was a year, two, ten, forty? It was all just days. He could feel them at his back. They loved him. He could feel Cas, still with him after all this time. He leaned toward the screen.

Dean whispered, "See you soon."

* * *

**Review, Fav., Rec.**

**AN: Wow, it's done. Finally. I plan to throw it at the Destiel Fanfiction blog and would love it if you all threw a like at it over there when it shows up. Also, thanks so much for reading it and telling me your theories and feelings about it. I loved all of it. Thank you .Spnfangirl1965 for your thoughts on the parallels and for the tumblr follow. I had a lot of fun with the parallels. Cas' grace fading was supposed to be represented in the Cancer. His fall was also an obvious. I even managed to throw in some lines from last night's episode, "Paint it Black." Sorry for making you cry pyroleigh; although, I'm sure this chapter was worse. Rainystv, I'm sorry about your loss. Thanks for always being so kind and thoughtful in your comments. I hope that the end of this was what you had hoped for; although, I don't know how happy it really is. Also, as to people not knowing, I think that the public defaults to assumptions of heterosexuality even when it is obvious. This was set in the '80s too, so I think that it was even more like that then. AC Boo-Yah, I have to say, I've never gotten a review quite like that. I love that in your imagined universe, I studied under Crowley in order to provide this torture to you all. Hopefully, it wasn't all torture. **

**Well, if you read it all, throw down a comment and a fav. I'll feel special and such. Love ya all and see you in the next fic (back to Dean the Dangerous).**


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